Page 24 of Wicked with Him

He seemed to hesitate. “Can I explain that when I call on you tomorrow? I promise to give you a full account. However, I think it best to get you home before full dark, so we don’t get lost together.”

“Might be a good idea.” But she was dying of curiosity. Had he really missed her so much? Or was it his conscience that had played a hand in his search for her across the countryside? She did not need his pity. It was too much to believe that he might have come to care for her after so brief an affair.

Crawford peered out over the landscape one last time, and then down toward the village to establish their bearing for the decent. “Beautiful. Tell me about your life here? Do you like it?”

“Very much indeed. The locale and villagers are truly pleasant.”

He nodded. “Any would-be suitors I need to know about?”

“How could there be? I’m a respectable married woman.”

“So you are. But that does not matter to some fellows.”

She pulled a face. Fletcher. The bookseller. Any distant farmer come to town always seem to find their way to her door. “There are a few who perhaps might look at me a certain way, but I have never encouraged any of them.”

“Good.”

And then took up her hand and peppered her with questions about the weeks they’d been apart on the walk downhill. Especially about her deception and the tales she’d spread about her life after coming to live here. At no time during the descent did he let her hand go, until they reached the front door of her home.

She was rather breathless, from the exertion as much as his attentiveness. She would have liked to have invited him inside, too. Liked him to stay to take dinner with her and talk some more about his life. She’d never had a chance to speak openly with him in London. Her brother would have forbidden any association between them at all because of Melody. Most likely, this was her only chance.

However, before she could decide how to broach the subject of Crawford coming in, he bowed deeply, thanked her for the gift of her company, and then headed immediately for the village inn, which was the only place he could be staying overnight.

Amity walked inside her cottage and shut and locked the front door behind her, and then stamped her foot for the lost opportunity. It always seemed too short a time with Roman Crawford. And now it was over again before she was ready again. Tomorrow, he’d come to take his leave of her—likely for the last time.

Chapter 9

Roman was decidedly nervous as he headed out of the village inn the next morning as the sun rose, best coat on and his cravat perfectly tied. He’d never actually ever gone courting. Not even with Melody. They’d seemed to fall into each other’s orbit at a country ball, and he’d never considered not being with her when she’d pleaded with him to follow her to London while she enjoyed her first season.

But his pursuit of Amity was the decision of weeks of separation and silent deliberation on what was right for him, and for her.

Yesterday’s kisses had only confirmed his suspicions that a longer-term connection with the beauty was his heart’s deepest desire.

His vagabond existence couldn’t continue forever. He could not drag Amity from place to place and expect her to be happy. It was time to put down roots at last. Settle down. Marriage, children, and decide where to call home. Clearly, he didn’t love Melody anymore. He wasn’t sure Amity could ever love him though. But he would see what she had to say and eventually propose, only so long as she wanted him the way he was. He couldn’t change the past. He held grudges, hated her brother, and had once been in love with her sister-in-law.

That might be too much for her to forgive.

Thinking back, he easily recalled Melody’s fascination with society upon her arrival in Town, and her thrill at meeting so many new and important people. She’d loved the attention and had become swept up with the excitement of her first season. So much so that Roman had felt a little sidelined more than once. Then, he’d never thought about the future.

But he was now.

He would not make the mistake of trusting that love could ever be easily won again, or kept.

He arrived at Amity’s garden gate, breathless and more than a little nervous. He should have told her about his change in identity yesterday, but he had been hesitant in case she’d be angry and refused to see him again. He would have to tell her today before someone else did, and see how she viewed the decision he’d made without consulting her first.

He knocked sharply on her door and stood back, ready to wait an hour even to be received. He’d never felt that way about any other woman, but he knew that here was where he was meant to be right now.

When she peeked out the curtain beside the door, he grinned and wedged his hat under his arm. In his other hand, just out of her sight, was a bunch of flowers, which he’d purchased the prior day and kept in water in his room to keep them fresh overnight.

The door opened wide. “You’re up early!”

“These are for you,” he said, thrusting the flowers at her and hoping they were acceptable.

She gaped at him but took them with a nervous smile.

“I have found the answer to our problem,” he murmured.

She looked at him with suspicion. “To what problem are you referring?”