Much later, his wife warm and fast asleep beside him, Jason heaved a contented sigh.

Agatha, bless her heart, had been right.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT WAS PAST NINE the next morning and Jason was deep in yesterday’s Gazette when the door to the breakfast parlour opened. Assuming it to be one of Morgan’s minions come to consult with the butler over some household matter, Jason did not look up. Not until Morgan’s voice floated over the top of the pages.

“Perhaps I should clear this all away, Your Grace, and fetch you a fresh pot of tea? And perhaps some toast?”

Jason emerged from behind his newspaper in time to see Lenore subside into the chair Morgan held, a grateful look on her face.

“Thank you, Morgan. Just one slice of toast, I think.”

Folding the paper and setting it aside, Jason waited until Morgan and the footman departed, burdened with the remnants of his substantial breakfast, before fixing his wife with a concerned frown. “Should you be up and about so early?”

Lenore smiled, albeit a trifle weakly. “I feel a great deal better this morning.” Belatedly realising how that might sound, she rushed on, “Mrs. Potts advised against languishing in bed unless I need to sleep.”

“Really?” One of Jason’s brows had risen. “I fear I must take exception to such strictures. There are other reasons for languishing in bed, which I hope to have you frequently consider.”

Blushing furiously, Lenore shot him a glance she hoped was sternly reproving. Luckily, Morgan appeared with her tea and toast and put an end to such risqué banter.

As she sipped the weak tea, Lenore tried to appear unconscious of the steady regard of her husband’s grey eyes. He seemed content to watch her, as if time was of no importance. In the end, she asked, “Do you have much business to attend to down here?”

Jason shook his head. “The harvests are virtually all in. There’s not much to be done until early next year.” He watched as Lenore nibbled at her toast then grimaced and pushed the plate aside. She was still very pale. “Compton comes down from London every now and then, when there’s any business that needs my attention.” Remembering that his wife was well acquainted with the workings of country estates, and that she liked going about, seeing work progress, he ventured, “There are some cottages being rethatched in the village. Perhaps, later this morning, we could ride over and take a look at the result? Or would you rather go in the gig?”

Consulting her stomach took no more than a minute. Reluctantly, Lenore shook her head. “I don’t think I could. I may be well enough to come downstairs, but I would rather not chance a carriage today. And as for riding, it’s perhaps a good thing that I’m not a devotee of the exercise.”

She looked up to see a frown on her husband’s handsome countenance.

Jason caught her eye. “Is that why you refused my invitations to go riding in town? Because you were too ill?”

Lenore nodded. “The very idea of galloping over the greensward, in the Park, no less, was enough to make me blanch.” Laying aside her napkin, she stood.

Recalling the hurt he had felt when she had declined his offer, Jason, rising, too, fixed her with a stern look. “Might I request, madam, that in future, you refrain from keeping secrets from your husband?”

At his mock severity, Lenore chuckled. “Indeed, my lord, I dare say you’re right. It would certainly make life much easier.” She took the arm he offered and they strolled into the hall. “However,” she said, glancing up at him through her lashes, “you must admit you had no real wish to be seen riding in the Park with me. Your aunts told me you never escort ladies on their rides.”

“My aunts are infallible on many points. However, while I would not wish to shatter your faith in their perspicacity, I fear predicting my behaviour isn’t one of their strengths.” Jason glanced down to capture his wife’s wide green gaze. “In this case, for instance, while they’re perfectly correct in noting that I’ve never seen any point in accompanying females on their jaunts in the Park, I consider accompanying my wife on such excursions a pleasure not to be missed.”

Lenore wondered whether the odd weakness she felt was due to her indisposition or to the glow in his grey eyes. Whatever, she wished she had learned to control her blushes, for he was entirely too adept at calling them forth. She no longer had any defence, not when he chose to communicate on that intimate level she shared with no one else.

Raising her hand to his lips, Jason smiled, pleased to see the colour in her cheeks. “I must go and look at those cottages. I’ll hunt you up when I return.”

With that promise, he left Lenore in the hall and strode to the front door.

When the heavy door had shut behind him, Lenore shivered deliciously. Wriggling her shoulders the better to throw off his lingering spell, she strolled into the morning-room. Jason’s behaviour throughout this morning, both before and after he had left her bed, led to only one conclusion. He intended to reinstate their relationship, exactly as it had been in the month following their wedding.

Sinking on to the chaise before the blazing fire, Lenore folded her arms across the carved back and gazed out at the mist shrouding the hilltops. Contented anticipation thrummed, a steady beat in her blood. Things had changed since August. Then, she had been on a voyage of discovery; this time she knew what was possible, knew what she truly wished of life. Coming back to the Abbey and resuming their relationship felt like returning to a well-loved and much desired place, a home. An acknowledgement that they had shared, and could still share, something that they both now valued.

It was more than she had expected of her marriage—a great deal more.

The only cloud on her horizon was how long it would last—how long Jason would be content with her and country life. Her green eyes darkening, she considered her prospects. The peace of country living had never been his milieu. Her mental pictures had always positioned him against a backdrop of ton-ish pursuits. If nothing else, her time in London had convinced her she could never bear more than a few weeks of such distraction; her mind was not attuned to it.

Biting her lips, Lenore frowned. Could his warning that not even his aunts could predict his tastes be a subtle hint, conscious or not, that they were changing? He had denied any plans to invite acquaintances to join them, now or later. Likewise, he had given her to un

derstand that he expected to remain at the Abbey, alone, with her, for the foreseeable future.

With a deep sigh, she stretched her arms, then let herself fall back against the cushions on the chaise. Inside, she was a mass of quivering uncertainty. Despite her determination not to pander to her secret yearnings, hope, a wavering flame, had flared within her. She had his affection and his desire; she wanted his love. That their sojourn here alone would allow that elusive emotion a chance to grow was the kernel of her hope. Unfortunately there seemed little she could do to aid the process.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Regencies Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net