Page 44 of Miss Devon’s Choice

Rebecca blinked, incredulously taking in his broad shoulders and long frame. “Oh?” The word came out a squeak and she hastily continued, wincing at the higher tone of her voice. “Your health seems perfectly adequate.”

His eyes darted to hers and she realized, seeing the clear brown depths, that the storm had moved on enough for her to see his every feature. And he doubtless could see her blush.

His deep laugh rumbled through the wooden turret. “I do not understand you, carina. How much of this is an act? You always seem so sincere.”

The Italian word, spoken to her twice now, had the ring of an endearment. At least, her heart gave an odd sort of thump when she heard it. “I promised you I would be honest,” she answered, raising one shoulder in a shrug. “And I see nothing wrong with you.”

Christian shook his head, his expression closing once more. “I was told once, in plain terms, that no Englishwoman would ever have me. I am too foreign, too ugly, and reaching beyond my pedigree. Even though I will inherit, my title will not be enough to still society’s gossip and disdain.”

A cold stone settled in Rebecca’s stomach. This is how he came to look for a wife. This is why my father is marrying me to him. He doesn’t think there is any other way. Rebecca looked out of the turret, her heart sinking when she saw blue in the sky once more. Their time holed up together was about to come to an end.

The man sitting beside her was injured, severely and deeply, by those who had loved him and those who despised him.

Could she even hope to repair the damage that had been done to him? She didn’t know much about love herself. She read about it in books, she caught glimpses of it when she visited Lucas and Virginia or saw her sisters with their husbands. But her knowledge was all second-hand and limited.

“You see,” Christian said, his deep voice interrupting her contemplation. “Love is dangerous. It has no place in my life. It is better that way, carina. Better for us both.”

Shaking her head, Rebecca held his gaze for several moments before replying. “I cannot believe that, Christian. I will not.”

“At least speak of it no more.” Each word spoken had a tired quality to it, and Rebecca knew she should resist speaking further of her desire to love him. It would be the polite thing to do. Yet, it wouldn’t be honest.

“I cannot promise you my silence will last for any amount of time,” she said at last. “I think my feelings on the matter must be as important as yours. But, I will relent for now.”

“Thank you for that,” he answered, one corner of his mouth rising along with his eyebrows. “Let us speak of something else.”

Rebecca spoke almost delicately. “I can agree to that. For the time being.”

He chuckled. “The rain has stopped.”

“I know.”

“We ought to get you back inside, so you can get warm and dry.”

His words gave her a little lift of optimism. A man who felt such concern for another couldn’t be completely closed off to deeper feelings.

Rebecca’s mother, she knew, had loved Mr. Devon when they married. But when he failed to return her feelings, failed to even care about her, everything changed. Julia had told her about it once, when Rebecca asked why their father didn’t mourn as they did. At the time, she’d been horrified by the very thought that a man could refuse to love his wife.

Thinking on it now, her own desperation to care for Christian might not end well. Even if she cared for him, if her feelings grew in magnitude, she would open herself up to greater pain should he never return her affection.

But he will, she told herself firmly, leaning slightly into his side, as though seeking his warmth. In reality, she sought any connection with him she could gain. He must. He has such a gentle heart, for all that he hides it so well.

After another moment of quiet, Christian leaned out onto the bridge between the tree towers, holding the paper he’d found to the light to read it. He replaced the paper, so if anyone else was lucky enough to come upon it they would have the next riddle, then he descended the ladder and waited for Rebecca to join him. Coming down was a little more difficult than climbing up, given that her skirts were not made with ladders in mind.

Rebecca took his arm after both feet were firmly on the ground again.

“Hearth and home is where the treasure lives,” he said, repeating the riddle to her. “But you must have lofty thoughts to find where it’s hid.” He sighed. “I have no great fondness for riddles.”

At least he’s in a better mood than he was when I found him. For the present, she counted it a victory.

Chapter Sixteen

Getting Rebecca and himself back into the house without being seen had proven a challenge for Christian. Even though they were betrothed, the two of them being alone together in the tree would do nothing for their reputations. Having come to Kettering and Annesbury Park to avoid scandal, keeping tongues from wagging was of paramount importance. There was also the matter of his letter to consider. Should their agreement be absolved, he had no wish to further damage her status. He found a side-door for Rebecca to sneak through and he waited a quarter of an hour before entering the house by a different route.

The rest of the day passed more slowly. Though Christian spent time conversing with the lords, on matters related to their personal holdings instead and the economic needs of the country, his thoughts were never far from Rebecca.

Try as he might, he couldn’t forget the feeling of her in his arms. She’d fit against him perfectly and having her tucked to his side had done something to him. Marriage would mark him as his wife’s protector in all things for the rest of his life. Sheltering her from the cold and the storm suddenly made that task seem more pleasant than daunting.

Christian went out to exercise Ajax the next morning and saw Thomas Gilbert riding toward the main house. He raised his hand, hailing the man.