Nash swore silently and tried not to wonder about the word she’d bitten off so abruptly.
She opened her mouth, closed it, drew a deep breath, and said quietly, “You are the man of my dreams, Nash Renfrew, and if it is truly your heart’s desire to live the rest of your life at Whitethorn, then I’ll live there with you gladly.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up her hand to stop him, and continued, “But I think you want a brilliant diplomatic career, and I would love to be a part of it. Not just for you, but for myself, to travel and meet people and serve my country, too, as your wife. If you could bring yourself to trust me, we could have a glorious life together. But if I do fail—”
“You won’t,” he said and took her in his arms. “I never for a minute thought you might fail. I did wonder if I was asking too much of you,” he admitted, “but if you are sure . . .”
“I’m very sure.” She slipped her arms around him, her eyes shining with faith and . . . and something else.
A fist closed around Nash’s heart. He swallowed, unable to think of a thing to say in the face of such a gift.
So he kissed her. Long, hard, and possessively.
And then they danced. And this time they moved as one, locked together in a slow-moving embrace, their bodies touching from chest to thigh.
At one point he murmured, “There’s supposed to be several inches between our bodies.”
“I’ll try to remember,” she said.
“Good.” He pulled her closer.
“Mr. Benson has sent a message up to say you’re wanted—we’re both wanted—in the front anteroom at your earliest convenience, miss,” Lizzie said from the door as Maddy finished dressing for dinner.
“Me? Why would he want me?”
“No idea, Lizzie, so let’s find out.” Benson, the butler, must think Maddy would need her maid with her, which meant it was serious. They hurried downstairs toward the anteroom nearest the front door. A rumble of male voices came from within.
When Maddy entered she found Nash and Benson with a big, brawny man of about thirty with dark, curly hair and very tanned skin. Dressed in a smart blue coat with large brass buttons, tight, dark breeches, and shiny black boots, he had a tough, vaguely nautical air. Maddy had never seen him before in her life.
Behind her Lizzie gasped. Maddy turned in time to see Lizzie blanch and take two uncertain steps. Slowly Lizzie’s knees buckled.
Nash and Benson leapt forward to catch her, but the big, tough seaman was faster than all of them. He caught Lizzie before she hit the floor and swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Lizzie? Lizzie, love, it’s Reuben.” He stroked her cheek, his big, work-roughened hands.
“Smelling salts, ma’am?” Benson proffered a small bottle. Maddy took it and waved it under Lizzie’s nose. She sneezed, screwed up her nose, and opened her eyes. She stared at the man who held her so tightly.
“Reuben?” Lizzie whispered.
“Aye, Lizzie, love, I’ve come back to you,” he said softly. “Come a long way, I have. Your Uncle Bill told me I’d find you here. He said you’d become a lady’s maid. Had enough of cows, love?”
“Put me down,” Lizzie said.
Reuben carefully placed her back on her feet. “All right now, love?”
“Just perfect,” Lizzie said and smacked him hard across the face. “Where have you been all this time?”
“I—” Reuben began.
“No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Had your fun with whoever it was, and now she’s kicked you out and you’ve come crawling back.”
“No, I—”
“Well, just you think again, Reuben Brown! I wouldn’t have you back if—mmph!” Her tirade came to an abrupt end as Reuben lifted her off her feet and kissed her. Lizzie struggled, kicking and punching.
Nash stepped forward to intervene but Maddy stopped him with a hand on his arm. A moment later Lizzie’s struggles faded, and she was returning the big man’s kisses, her arms twined around his neck and her legs lifting—quite scandalously—to wrap around his middle.
“Now, lass, you’ll shock the good folk here.” Reuben eased Lizzie back to her feet. Lizzie glanced at Maddy and gave her a sheepish grin. Then she remembered her grievances and gave her errant husband an unconvincing glare. “You’d better explain yourself to my satisfaction, Reuben Brown, or that’s the last one of those you’ll get from me!”
Reuben winked at Maddy, then straightened Lizzie’s cap, which had almost fallen off, and kissed her on the nose, ignoring the irritated swat she gave him in return. “No need to take on,” he told her. “There was never anyone but you, lass, and you should know that.”
