“Then tell me?”
He shook his head, kissed her knuckles. “No. The past does not matter. It does not hurt me.”
But something in his eyes revealed his words as lies. “We do not have to. I merely thought, since you are staying now, we might try something that feels more permanent.”
He looked at the house once more, his lips thin. “You’re right.” He kissed her temple then stood, resting her gently where he’d been sitting. “We’ll follow your plan. Now I”—he scratched the back of his neck, wouldn’t look at her—“must be off to Dorking. I need to check with the constable about Mr. Smith. He’s said to have left the village, but a man can always come back.” He mumbled the last part, already walking toward the stables.
She ran after him, caught his arm. “I’ve upset you.”
His eyes were so stormy.
And then they weren’t. Then he was pulling her into his arms and kissing her again, then he was saying silly things in her ear. “Time for a riddle, Caro. I am soft and hard and always needy. What am I?”
She’d not heard this one. And with his warm lips skimming so close to her skin, she could not think to solve it. “I-I’m sure I do not know.”
“Felix Canterbury, Viscount Foxton. Soft for his wife’s every desire, hard for her body every hour of the day. And needy for her smiles.” He nipped her earlobe.
He… he’d made up a riddle. Just for her. And it… oh, it was better than any words of love. It held so much—the hot summer days of childhood, laughter beneath pianos, the day she’d looked up from a riddle book and realized the young man pretendingdisinterest was the only one for her. It held a dark room at the Lyon’s Den and gentle mornings making love in a folly. It held his humor and his lust and his… perhaps his heart.
What a precious gift, and she held it close, felt it light her up from the inside out. She might never stop glowing.
Still, she managed to mutter, “Naughty man.” He laughed and bussed her cheek. “You’ve not upset me, Caro. I told you I’d stay. I’m staying, and you’re right. I cannot sleep perpetually in a garden decoration, no matter how hospitable you’ve made it.” He kissed the tip of her nose and released her with a groan. “Later, wife.” A promise as he sauntered toward the stables.
She clutched her heart as if holding his promise tight there, and she entered Hawthorne grinning like a fool. Polly and Ruth teased her for the next hours as they piled dead, tangled bushes in a corner of the conservatory and salvaged the few plants that still thrived.
Let them tease. It drove her happiness higher. She’d never thought to have a man like Felix. A partner to help carry the load and achieve her ambitions. She could do it on her own, of course. But with Felix, she did not have to, and that was an answer to a riddle she’d never expected.
She sang off-key as she sat down to write to Chloe and Siswell, to invite them to Hawthorne for Felix’s sake.
But her quill scratched across the paper as a yell went up outside.
A scream.
She looked out the window. Saw nothing. She rushed outside. Nothing.
Then another growling yell. “Damn it all to hell!”
Felix.
Caroline ran, following his curses. She found him at the stables, hanging from the roof.
“Felix!”
His hands were white knuckled and clinging to the edge. “Stay back, damn it!” he grunted. He swung his legs side to side, arching them higher, trying to… what? Then one toe clipped the roof edge. Then the other foot went higher and didn’t come back down. He’d caught the roof with the heel of his boot. Then using it for leverage, he pushed up onto the roof until he could turn and sit. He scooted away from the edge, drawing his knees up and hanging his head.
Caroline’s legs gave out, and she dropped to her backside in the grass. “Felix! You terrified me!”
He… laughed, a sound that sailed across the sky as bright as the sun. And when he finally lifted his head, he revealed a wide grin and blazing eyes. Excitement electric in his face. Something else too.
“Are you hurt?” she ventured.
He waved away her concern. “Better than I have been. Almost as good as the day I punched that cretin in the alley behind the forge.”
She wanted to fall backward. Was he… bored at Hawthorne? While she was happier than she’d ever been was he… unfulfilled? “Can you come down now?”
He disappeared then reappeared moments later, walking out of the stables, brushing hay and dust from his trousers and shirtsleeves. He sat beside her.
“What were you doing up there?” she asked.
