When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal 4)

“Why?”

Another rub of his chin and then he pointed at another note.

Phoebe plucked it up and opened it.

Be patient and you will see.

She smiled, oddly delighted with him. “Did you try to anticipate all of my questions?”

When he pointed to another note, she could not help laughing. He reached for a paper and laid it before her. Then he set up a bowl with water, paintbrushes, and paint. The quality of the paper was different from what she used to write on, and it crinkled each time she shifted it.

He gave her another note.

Write down everything you worry about…write down every dream you have. Each fear and each hope and dream to a paper.

A pounding ache went through her heart, and she stared at him helplessly. “What does happiness look like?”

He selected a paper and a paintbrush and made a show of rolling his sleeves to his elbows before he started painting. Leaning over him, she watched the images take shape. He was no artist, for he drew stick figures. But they were stick figures of a man and woman dancing. She choked on a laugh when he attempted to draw a dress onto the woman. Then beneath it, he wrote, “One day I hope to dance the waltz the entire night with my wife.”

Her viscount had a degree of charm that might prove dangerous to her heart.

When she peered up at him, his countenance was admirably composed.

“I believe I would like that as well,” she said, very aware of how furious her heart pounded.

Following his direction, she selected a paper and drew a lady, a gentleman, and four children together, running and flying kites. Then at the bottom she wrote—happiness.

He nodded approvingly, took it from her, and placed it to dry beside his. With a smile, Phoebe proceeded to pour out her varied hopes and fears into the form of drawings or words onto the paper. Hugh did the same, appearing, too, as if he needed this moment. To Phoebe’s mind, more than an hour passed, so immersed they were in their tasks. She lowered the paintbrush, aware of a cramp in her fingers, and leaned back against the cushions, gently rubbing her stomach.

Hugh painted; his brows furrowed in fierce concentration. With a grin, she lifted the paintbrush, leaned over, and ran the brush gently over his nose. The comical expression on his face pulled a laugh from her throat.

He stared at him, clearly bemused. Then his eyes dropped to her lips and darkened. He looked away from her to the sky, a quick grin flashing before it disappeared.

“What did you think of just now?” she asked, wiggling her brow.

Instead of attempting to sign, he reached over and lightly pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger before going back to his drawing. Phoebe scowled. That was how Richard often touched her. A bit playful yet also a reprimand. Did…did Hugh think of her in a sisterly manner? Was that why he made no effort to consummate their marriage?

Phoebe sucked in a harsh breath, surprised at her instinctive rejection of that idea.

The soft crunch of footfall had her looking away from his patrician profile and toward the cliffs’ ledge. It was then she noted the dozens of footmen and maidservants about, working diligently. She frowned when she observed it was their drawings with which they fiddled.

“Hugh, I…” Phoebe smiled and took the note he held out to her.

They are following my instructions to build sky lanterns with our drawings.

“Sky lanterns!”

He signed, “Yes,” and with a motion of his hand encouraged her to read the rest of his words.

A sky lantern works like a hot air balloon. They will artfully arrange our papers over a small wire construction. There are also tiny tallow candles inside to create fire. The fire will create hot air, which is lighter than the cold air outside the lantern, and it will cause them to rise into the sky. It is good luck to release sky lanterns. For many cultures, releasing them to the heavens is symbolic of letting worries, pain, and fear float away. Writing dreams and releasing them to the heavens might also assist with them coming true.

“It sounds so beautiful,” she whispered, a tender ache darting through her heart. And he had done this for her. “How did you learn about this?”

She caught a glint of mischief in his blue eyes and something else she couldn’t decipher. He mockingly scratched the back of his ears, and as if by magic, his fingers flicked, and a note was there for her. Her husband was proving to be courteous, charming, with a delightful sense of humor.

There was a time I was searching for something. I ended up traveling for almost three years. One of the places I visited was China and I witnessed a lantern of the sky festival. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve experienced, and I wanted to share a bit of it with you.

What were you searching for? she wanted to ask, but an excited shout went up, and she turned to see that the servants were lighting the bottom of each lantern.