Putting his arm around her waist from behind, he pulled her up against him and whispered into her hair, “Your body wants me.”
“Then thank goodness my mind rules my body.”
He chuckled, then released her. “I will leave you to your sister’s company this evening, as I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“You will not come?”
“Is that regret I hear?”
“I—I only wish to plan my schedule.”
“Liar,” he whispered, and kissed her cheek. “I will come to you, but I don’t know when.”
“You are busy, Robert. I do not need to be coddled.”
“I have taken Molly’s place, and I will not let you down.”
“I do have letters to write …”
“My tutor used to claim I had excellent penmanship, probably far superior to your sister.”
“I would never ask Blythe to write my letters.” And that seemed so sad to her.
He must have realized it, for he said nothing for a moment.
“Have a good evening, Audrey.”
And then he was gone, and the room seemed so empty without him. She tugged her glove back on, buttoning it at the wrist, trying not to think of his mouth there. Oh, she had to stop this longing.
She considered the piano, so neglected, the perfect thing to occupy her mind. Seating herself on the bench, she lifted the cover and played several chords. The instrument wasn’t exactly in tune, but close enough. She started playing, and lost herself in the beauty of such pure, blissful sound. She didn’t know how long she played, but when at last she paused between songs, she heard soft clapping.
“As beautiful as always,” Blythe said.
Audrey heard honesty rather than jealousy, and smiled. “Thank you. Before he left, Robert mentioned I had not played since we arrived.”
“And it’s obvious, because as I came downstairs, Mrs. Sanford and both her children were standing in the hall, entranced.”
“Oh.” Audrey bent her head, surprised. Music had always separated Blythe and her.
“And then I stepped inside, and for just a moment, I saw you as others must when you play, because it seemed as if you were not blind.” And then in a contemplative voice, “I have no real memory of that.”
“You were but two when we both took ill.”
“I remember being very, very hot.”
“I, as well. What else do you remember?”
Blythe said nothing for a moment, and Audrey wondered if she’d gone too far. Her sister was always a woman who lived for the future, and what it might hold for her.
“Nothing,” Blythe said woodenly. “I was two, as you said.”
But for a moment, Audrey thought she’d been about to say something else.
When Robert arrivedat Rose Cottage midmorning the next day, Francis told him that Audrey and her sister had gone to Hedgerley. Robert couldn’t be surprised that Blythe would need something to do. Why hadn’t she escorted her sister to their own village? Audrey seemed to want to put it behind her and start anew, but Robert wasn’t so forgiving. He worried that Miss Collins would fall into her old family patterns and try to control Audrey’s every move.
Gray clouds overhead threatened rain, but that didn’t stop him from leaving Rose Cottage. As he rode down the country lane, the dark clouds scudding away, he remembered the sweet smell of Audrey’s neck, the blush that had swept her face and down beneath her bodice. He’d longed to explore, though one touch of the forbidden had made her stop. But he’d gone a step further, and if he’d been patient …
He urged his horse into a trot, the better to put such rousing memories aside.
