Her heart gave a little twist, a small leap; she looked ahead. Unsure how she felt about being understood, or his wish to do so. After a moment of steady cantering, she cleared her throat. Drew breath and lifted her chin. “I might, indeed, appear to erect hurdles, but I assure you I don’t mean to.” She glanced at him. “I’m every bit as determined on our present course as you are.”
His lips lifted; his smile was all male. “In that case, don’t worry.” He held her gaze. “I’ll ignore your hurdles.”
She humphed and looked ahead, not at all sure she approved of such a tack, yet…as they cantered through the golden afternoon, she drew a certain measure of comfort from it. Regardless of what silly vacillations her fears might drive her to, he wasn’t going to allow her to avoid or resist him—to draw back. In battling her fears, it seemed she’d found an ally.
It wasn’t until they were almost at the clearing that she realized they’d retraced their route to the Rufus Stone. When they cantered into the wide field carpeted in the green and gold of fresh grass and turning leaves, she wondered why he’d chosen this place, wondered what he was planning.
They halted; he dismounted, tethered the horses, then came to lift her down. He lowered her slowly; even when she was steady on her feet, he didn’t let her go.
She looked up; their gazes locked. She felt the fascination between them draw tight, as he drew her closer and bent his head felt their mutual hunger awake.
With his lips, Michael brushed her temple, then bent lower to trace the curve of her ear and nuzzle the sweet hollow beneath. He inhaled, let her scent sink slowly through him, felt himself react. “I should probably admit…”
He let the words trail away as he drew her fully against him.
Her hands sliding up, over his shoulders, she blinked at him. “What?”
His lips curved. He lowered his head. “I would have ignored your hurdles anyway.”
He took her mouth, felt her give it, and herself—felt her sink against him. For long moments, he simply savored her, and her implicit surrender. Yet the isolation of the clearing was not why they were here. Nevertheless, capturing her senses, focusing them, and her, on all that would be between them, on the ultimate intimacy that would soon exist before he broached his immediate objective, wasn’t a bad idea.
Eventually, he drew back; when he lifted his head, she opened her eyes, searched his. “Why did you choose here?”
He might be able to addle her senses, but her wits were clearly more resilient. Releasing her, he took her hand, drew her to walk with him toward the stone. “When we came here last time…” He waited until she lifted her gaze to his, until he could capture her eyes. “As we rode into the clearing, I was baiting you.” He saw that she remembered, was remembering. “I wanted a reaction, but the reaction I got was not one I can interpret, even now.”
Looking ahead, she halted; he halted, too, but didn’t release her hand. He shifted to face her. “We were discussing the life of an ambassador’s wife, namely your own, and the duties you or any such lady had to perform.”
Her features set. Without looking at him, she tugged her hand; he tightened his grip. “You warned me of every ambassador’s need for a suitable helpmate—I mentioned that the same held true for government ministers.” Relentlessly he continued, “I then pointed out that Camden had been a master ambassador.”
Her fingers twitched in his, but she refused to look at him; her expression was stony, her chin ominously set. “I brought you here to ask you what about that upset you. And why.”
For a long moment, she remained utterly still, statuelike but for the pulse he could see thudding at the base of her throat. She was upset again, but in a different way…or the same way compounded by something more.
Finally, she drew in a deep breath, fleetingly glanced at him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I…” Again she breathed deeply, lifted her head and fixed her gaze on the trees. “Camden married me because he saw in me the perfect hostess—the ultimate ambassadorial helpmate.”
Her voice was flat, without inflection; denied her eyes, any chance of reading her feelings, he was left guessing, trying to follow her direction. “Camden was a career diplomat, a very experienced and canny one by the time he married you.” He paused, then added, “He was right.”
“I know.”
The words were so tight with emotion they quavered. She wouldn’t look at him; he pressed her hand. “Caro…” When she didn’t respond, he quietly said, “I can’t see if you won’t show me.”
“I don’t want you to see!” She tried to fling her hands in the air—found her fingers locked in his and tugged. “Oh, for goodness sake! Let me go. I can hardly run away from you, can I?”
The fact she recognized that made him ease his grip. Wrapping her arms about her, she paced, looking down, circling the stone. Agitation shimmered about her, yet her steps were definite; her expression, what he glimpsed of it, suggested she was wrestling, but with what he was still at a loss to guess.
>
Eventually she spoke, but didn’t slow her pacing. “Why do you need to know?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you again.” He hadn’t even needed to think to reply.
His words made her pause; she glanced fleetingly at him, then resumed her pacing—from one side of the stone to the other, leaving the chest-high monument between them.
After another fraught pause, she spoke, her words low but clear, “I was young—very young. Only seventeen. Camden was fifty-eight. Think about that.” She paced on. “Think about how a fifty-eight-year-old man, a very worldly, experienced, still handsome and devastatingly charming but ruthless fifty-eight-year-old man convinces a seventeen-year-old girl, one who hadn’t even had a Season, to marry him. It was so easy for him to make me believe in something that simply wasn’t there.”
It hit him. Not like a blow but with the keen edge of a knife. He suddenly found himself bleeding from a place he hadn’t even known could be cut. “Oh, Caro.”
“No!” She rounded on him, silver eyes ablaze. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me! I just didn’t know—” Abruptly, she waved her hands and turned away. Dragged in a huge breath and straightened, lifted her head. “Anyway, it’s all in the past.”