Cursing, he shut the door, crossed the room, and righted the chair his loving bride had placed before the door to his room with the fell intention of keeping him out. Memories of the argument that had given rise to that event followed him into his room.
Five minutes later, fully dressed, he was striding across the lawns to the stables, no longer so sure of his victory of the night. Time and again he’d underestimated her, misjudged the way her mind worked. He’d thought last night would have smoothed their path, but had it? Or had he sunk himself deeper in the mire?
If he had, given her temper, given her resolution, what might she do?
Reaching the stables, he went quickly down the aisle to the mare’s box. The mare was in it; she lifted her head and stared him.
Gyles humphed and whirled.
“Shall I saddle up for you, m’lord?”
Jacobs, his head stableman, came trotting up from the tack room.
“Has anyone gone out this morning?” Jacobs would never imagine he was asking after his new wife.
“No, but I heard most of the visitors are gone.”
“Most, yes. I wondered if her ladyship’s uncle had gone out. He must be inside.” Dismissing Jacobs, Gyles strode back to the house.
He tried to put himself in “her ladyship’s” shoes, tried to imagine, if he were her, where he might go. To no avail-he had no idea what she might be thinking, feeling. Was she happy with their marriage, smugly content after last night? Ready to make the best of it, calmly resigned to the fact? Or was she sad, dismayed, even distraught that what she’d hoped would not be?
That he’d never in his life spent so much as a minute worrying about any woman’s thoughts, much less her feelings, he shrugged aside as irrelevant. The gypsy was his wife-she was different.
He paused at the end of the yew walk to draw in a deeper breath, to ease the nonsensical fear that was closing about his chest. Hands on his hips, he tipped his head back.
And saw her.
On the battlements of the nearest tower.
He reached the house in seconds and raced through the corridors to the tower stair. By then, a sliver of sanity had punctured his fear. The gypsy was neither weak nor fragile. What exactly was he thinking?
He climbed the stairs at a normal pace, making no effort to be silent. Regardless of the fact that the battlements were quite safe, he didn’t want to frighten her by suddenly appearing beside her.
One arm on the stone coping, she was leaning on the battlements, looking out over the park. She turned her head as he opened the tower room door and stepped onto the wooden walk. Far from being shocked, he had the impression she was not surprised to see him.
He was the one surprised.
He hadn’t previously seen her in an ordinary gown-seen her as he would see her every day for the rest of his life. Taking in the simple voile gown, noting how it lovingly displayed her ample charms, how the soft material caressed her hips and thighs, the single flounce flirting about her ankles, he was acutely aware of the body the gown concealed. The lush body he’d enjoyed throughout the night.
Noting the black curls piled artlessly atop her head, tumbling about her ears and nape, noting how large and vivid were her eyes, how perfectly lashed, noticing anew the lushness of her lips, he wondered what he would have done, said, how he would have reacted if he’d seen her this way before he’d married her. He had to question his sanity in wedding her.
And knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I wondered where you were.” He walked toward her, halting a yard away.
She looked back at the vista of treetops. “I came up here for the views and fresh air.” After an instant, she added, “It seemed a good place to think.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted her to think, nor that he would like what she was thinking.
“The estate extends more to the east and west, I presume?”
“Yes. The escarpment’s the northern boundary.”
“And the Gatting property lies to the east?”
“Southeast.” He waited, then added, “I’ll take you to see it sometime, if you like.”
She inclined her head, then waved to where a glimmer of silver marked the course of the river. “The bridge that washed away-was it over there?”