There were faint dark circles underneath his eyes, though she had no idea if he had slept well. All she knew was that she had not been woken up by any screams, which was likely a good sign that his nightmares had not returned.
He glanced up from the papers, folding a corner down to look at her. “I carried you.”
He said it so casually, yet the words were a blow to her stomach, knocking the wind out of her lungs. He hadcarriedher from his chamber to hers, and she hadsleptthrough it all! The sort of romantic moment she had dreamed about her entire life, and her foolish self had decided that was the perfect time to be oblivious, deep in the land of such dreams.
“I… uh… apologize for the inconvenience,” she mumbled, cursing herself.
“It was no inconvenience,” he replied evenly. “You are not heavy, and I am not weak.”
She remembered the chapter she had been reading to him, the heat in her face rising exponentially. It was a travesty, really, that she had fallen asleep while reading such an exciting tale. Either she must have been very tired or very comfortable; she could not recall which.
“Do you have my pages?” she asked, her heart performing anxious somersaults in her chest.
“I have not pried ahead to the ending,” he said, with a sly hint of a smile. “They are in my chambers. I will give them back to you this evening.”
She frowned, not entirely convinced she was truly awake.What does he mean? Does he want me to come to his chambers again this evening?The very thought of asking outright closed her throat, and no amount of sips from her teacup could make it open wide enough for words again.
Surely, she was misinterpreting his meaning. He likely just meant that he would hand them back at dinner or something. It would not serve her well to get excited, falling into the pitfalls of her romantic ideals. After all, he had not exactly wanted her there the previous evening.
Should I ask about his nightmares or pretend it did not happen?Recalling his sorrowful lament of “I do not want to die,” she decided on the latter. Evidently, whatever had caused the nightmare would be too painful to relive in the stark daylight, though she had a few notions as to what his nightmare had been about.
“That is… satisfactory,” she replied, quietly wishing she was having her breakfast alone, instead of facing such a barrage of surprises. It was far too early for revelations.
Cyrus set down the morning papers. “Actually, I wondered if you might like to accompany me into town this morning. I have some errands, but we have another ball to attend soon, and I thought you could choose some gowns.”
“Town?” Teresa thought of the world outside Darnley Castle, reminding herself not to forget that it existed. “I should be delighted. I do not have a talent for fashion, but perhapsyoucould choose me a gown or two. The one at your friend’s ball was, after all, a great success.”
He gave a swift nod. “We shall leave around eleven o’clock.”
“I… shall be waiting,” she replied, pinching her thigh under the table, just to be extra certain that she was not still in her bed, fast asleep, in the land of dreams.
The carriage rattled through the most magnificent countryside: a landscape of lush greenery and quaint farmhouses with gently smoking chimneys that Teresa had not properly noticed on her journey to Darnley Castle, seeing as she had been in such a grim mood.
Sheep grazed across rolling hills that her limbs longed to climb, the pretty hedgerows alive with blackbirds, robins, and finches of all kinds. Blackberries gleamed, ripe with juice, so close to the carriage windows that Teresa could have picked them if she wanted. And she did, but thought her husband might disapprove.
So, it astounded her when Cyrus himself pulled down the small sash window and gathered a hasty handful.
“They are particularly sweet here,” he said, offering out his full palm to her. “Best with cream, but I cannot snatchthatthrough the window. The cows would surely take offence.”
She frowned at him… and promptly burst into laughter that could not be held back, amusement sweeping through her like a warm summer breeze. This time, sheknewhe had made a joke; there could be no mistaking it, despite his straight-faced delivery.
With merry tears in her ears that trickled down onto her cheeks, she thought she saw him smirk.Almosta true smile. But it was gone by the time she cleared the happy blur from her vision.
“You cannot be funny, Cyrus,” she said, grinning. “I will not knowwhatto do with you if you are funny as well as…”
She coughed, realizing what she had been about to say. Her mind was getting carried away again, filled to the brim with romantic notions after the revelation she had received at breakfast. Not to mention the revelations she had experienced for herself last night, when shewasawake.
He called me beautiful. How can I not have notions when he called me that?Those words of his “entirely beautiful, within and without” were painless thorns that could not be removed, and would cause her no injury as long as she did not try to push them deeper into her heart.
“As well as what?” Cyrus prompted, as he tried to offer her the blackberries again.
She took a few and popped them into her mouth, so she would have a reason not to reply. She chewed as slowly as she could, giving herself time to think of an answer before she swallowed.
“Goodness, theyaresweet,” she gushed, meaning it.
They might have been the sweetest blackberries she had ever tasted, the juice as sugary as honey, the flesh a burst ofsaccharine deliciousness. And the faintly tart note that finished the berry provided the perfect balance.
He ate a few himself, leaving the last two for her. “The very sweetest you can find are in the woods about four miles from the castle. It is an arduous journey to reach them, but the reward is unparalleled.” He nodded out of the window. “There are wild strawberries there, too. And the sweetest apples, if you go at the right time.”
