By the time she made it to the entrance hall, she was positively giddy, her spirits so high she felt she might soar. Cyrus’ kiss would help with that, for the brush of his mouth and the strength of his embrace never failed to make her feel like she could fly.
“Your Grace!” Belinda’s startled voice did nothing to dampen Teresa’s enthusiasm. “What on earth are you doing out of bed? With respect, of course.”
Teresa grinned. “I have come down to have breakfast with my husband. Is he waiting for me? Goodness, I hope he has not eaten without me.” Her smile faded for a moment. “I did not even think of that. No matter—wherever he is, I shall find him. And if you do not want me to hobble very far, perhaps you might tell me where Icanfind him?”
The housekeeper looked pale, her gaze furtive, not quite meeting Teresa’s eye. “He is in the gardens.” She moved closer. “But, if I may, I really think you ought to return to your chambers. His Grace won’t want to see you out of bed, going against the physician’s instructions.”
“I will return to bed once I have seen him,” Teresa replied firmly, beginning her lengthy limp to the outside.
It took a matter of seconds for Belinda to appear at her side, looping her arm through Teresa’s with a grim frown upon her face.
“If you won’t be convinced,” Belinda said, “I’m not about to let you go all that way by yourself, in your condition. But if you start to feel faint or the pain is too much, I’m taking you back. I realize you’re the duchess, but I must insist on that.”
Teresa flashed her a conspiratorial smile. “I agree to your terms, dear Belinda.”
Ordinarily, the housekeeper was the first to chuckle at one of Teresa’s jokes, but the older woman’s expression remained uneasy as she helped Teresa out of the castle. Indeed, Belindawas so unusually stern that Teresa began to wonder if there might be a reason for that, and if it would have been better to return to bed after all.
Nonsense. Of course not. Cyrus will be fine again; he would not have carried me to my bed if he was not.
She kept that belief firmly in her heart, allowing her excitement and her joy to rise again, the closer she got to the gardens. There, she was certain she would receive the affection and relief that she craved, losing herself in her husband’s arms and the press of his tender kiss.
Shambling onto the pristine white pathways of crushed shell and gravel, Teresa stopped and raised her hand to her brow to block out the glare of the sun. She searched the gardens ahead of her with the eagerness of a bride who had waited years to see her sailor betrothed return to her shores.
Where are you, my love? Come to me, my love.
Where she eventually spotted him was not at all where she would have expected.
He stood by the greenhouses, casually dressed in just a shirt and trousers, the former open to the chest. A bucket of water rested at his feet, and in his hand he held a cloth, scrubbing determinedly at the glass walls. There was no sign of Mr. Brewster, although Teresa doubted he would have been too pleased by the sight.
“Was I asleep so long that you decided to become a gardener?” she called out, as Belinda helped her along the path.
It was a beautiful morning. Warm, with a light breeze that took the edge off the heat; the sky blue and cloudless, perfect for wandering through the countryside. Although Teresa supposed that that particular pastime would have to wait a while.
Cyrus froze. “You should not be out of bed.”
“I could not languish in bed on such a glorious morning,” Teresa protested lightly, her heart racing at the impressive vision of him. “In truth, I had hoped to have breakfast with you. Although, now that I think of it, I do not actually know what the time is.”
Soon, surely, he would turn and smile at her, pull her into his embrace, and all of yesterday would be forgotten.
“It is just past eleven o’clock,” he replied, apparently finding something very interesting on the glass. More interesting than his wife. “I have had breakfast already.”
Teresa mustered a nervous laugh. “Perhaps, Belinda could fetch me something to eat, and I can have a picnic here while you finish what you are doing. Then, I thought we could spend the day in the library and?—”
“I will be gone this afternoon,” he interrupted, turning at last.
He dropped the cloth into the bucket and wiped his hands on his trousers, finally meeting her gaze. Where she had anticipated warmth and affection, there were two deep pools of the coldest blue. As devoid of feeling as they used to be.
She nodded slowly. “Of course, I should not have assumed that you had nothing to occupy yourself, being as busy as you are.” She rubbed her throat, her nerves jittering. “It is just that… well, I hoped we might spendsometime together. You see, I have been so worried about you. You seemed very upset yesterday, and… I should like to apologize for any distress that I caused.”
“I am quite well now,” he said coolly, his gaze flitting to Belinda.
The housekeeper bowed her head and backed away, leaving the couple alone. Whether that was a good sign or a bad one, Teresa guessed she was about to find out.
“I do not need an apology, Teresa,” he added, sweeping a hand through his hair. “Nor do we need to spend time with one another. All is well.”
Teresa frowned. “It does not seem as if ‘all is well,’ if I may be honest.”
“I assure you, it is.”
