“Of course he did,” Caroline said, everything clicking together with ease. “You old busy body!” The man could have ruined her plan! But she could hold no ill will when everything had worked out well after all.
Grandfather snorted. “You’ll thank me one day. Now off you go! See you at the abbey soon.” He gestured to the coachman, and the carriage lurched forward. Caught off guard, Caroline lurched forward, too, landing with her palms flat on the cushion of the bench opposite her. And on either side of her new husband’s fawn-encased thighs.Thickthighs. Her nose butted against his chest. Ahardchest. And when she inhaled a sharp gasp, she inhaledhim, too—soap and cologne with the bite of something citrus, something she remembered from summer days of grass and sun andhim.
“Lovely,” she whispered.
“Erm, Caro… planning to stay there the entire ride?”
She blinked up at Felix, past his snowy cravat and diamond pin blinking in the sunlight, past his chiseled jaw and firm, pink lips, and into the blue oceans of his eyes where annoyance flashed like lightning.
“Can’t be comfortable.”
She jerked backward and away from him, bouncing back into her seat. “Apologies. Not my fault.”
He waved away her concern.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I spent the last three weeks walking through the Lake District.”
Her mouth dropped open. She’d have to search the carriage floor for her jaw. “All three weeks? Why?”
He shrugged. “I wished to be alone.”
“Did you have a plan? A route?”
“No and no. It’s less… challenging with those things.”
“You planned out which inns you were to stay at, of course.”
“Not at all. I took no money. I slept out of doors.”
Good heavens.She’d married the very personification of chaos. “But… but…” She was sputtering, so she closed her mouth, licked her lips, and took a few steadying breaths before speaking again. “What did you do for food?”
“I worked for it when I needed it. I was on foot, and the inns do not approve of foot travelers. It’s easier to avoid them altogether.”
“Easier. Ha. Excellent joke.”
He did not laugh.
“You could havedied,” she said.
“That was the point.”
Once more, her jaw met the floor, and this time she didn’t bother to pick it back up. “You would rather die than marry me?”
He peered at the sky. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then whatdidyou mean?”
“It does not matter.” He rested an elbow on the edge of the open carriage. “Did I ever give you my condolences? For your father?”
He was changing the subject, and not gracefully. “No, you did not.”
“It was a crushing loss. God, I’m sorry. Obviously, it was crushing. I… Hell. I’m not good at this.”
That obvious too.
“You want to live at Hawthorne because of it?” Now he looked at her, face blank, eyes searching.
