Late Spring, 1769
“Of course I had to marry you. Someone needs to take care of you. You keep leaving your clothing everywhere.” His eyes glinted hot and tender.
“I like to think of those items as bread crumbs, leading you to me.”
They walked through the grassy field, their fingers linked together.
“I need no leading to find you,” he said.
Holding hands was a favorite part of being married to Cyrus Ryland, one of the pleasant surprises she had discovered. He welcomed daily garden walks, tucking her close to his side. Nor was he ever bothered to sneak away for a time and simply hold hands. Most interesting of all, Cyrus understood her need to keep the New Union Coffeehouse running well.
Today, he had surprised her with fishing poles and a basket lunch. They walked along the River Irwell, not far from Manchester, in thick grass, her hems dragging. The time wasn’t the best for catching fish but was perfect for being alone.
And perfect for sharing secrets.
“This spot,” he said, pointing to a willow tree draping the bank. Green branches trailed the water like fingers skimming from a boat.
“It is perfect.” Like life when I’m with you.
They spread a blanket, kicked off their shoes, and stretched out side by side. She untied his queue and ran her fingers through his hair.
“You know, love,” she said, stroking his hair, “you’ve upset the balance of nature with your beautiful hair. If other women only knew.”
He’d already shut his eyes, forgetting the fishing poles entirely. “My valet warns me there are many more gray strands this year.” One lazy lid opened. “He claims it’s because I’m a married man.”
“Aging you, am I?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled from his smile. “Something is.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm and the pale skin on her wrist. “But not you.”
Peaceful moments passed, not measured by a clock but by birds singing and the river’s flow.
His chest heaved, but his eyes stayed closed. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you, Claire Ryland.”
“I feel the same about you. And? What is it you want to say to me?”
He chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “A man can hide very little from you, can he?”
She circled her finger on the skin above his nose. “This, among other signs, gives you away.”
Cyrus sat up, brushing bits of grass that clung to him. He leaned an elbow on an upraised knee, staring at the meadow beyond.
“When I think of growing old, I know I face a good future because of you,” he began. “But I want to grow old somewhere out here, not London.”
“And this is what troubles you?”
His pewter eyes pinned her, his voice soft. “Because your happiness matters to me.” A semblance of a grin stirred his lips. “The New Union…it’s in London.”
Her new husband was that concerned for her happiness. She sat up.
“Cyrus, you make me happy, not a place.” She waved her arm over the beautiful, river touched meadow. “I’d be happy here.”
He studied her as though checking for a fissure or a fault. They’d waited months before getting married. This was new. They were new.
She leaned close and kissed his cheek, her finger stroking the cleft on his chin. “People drink coffee in Manchester.”
“I’ve heard they do.” His voice was a pleasant rumble against her skin.
“Cyrus, I’ll go wherever you want.”
She found another bit of grass clinging to him and brushed it off. She liked taking care of him as much as he devoted himself to her.
“I’ve learned a few things, being married to you.”
“Such as?”
“We never really lose our flaws. Being with the people we love smooths out those flaws, makes us better, but flaws?” She batted the air. “They are boon companions for life.”
“And I’m better equipped at knowing my wife is about to deliver sage commentary for my benefit.”
She laughed softly at his insight. “Cyrus, you will work for the rest of your life to take care of others. It’s ingrained in you. But it’s time you do for yourself…and as your wife, I expect it.”
One brow shot up at her stern tone.
“Tell me that you want to leave London and get lost in the Midlands somewhere. That’s what people do when they love each other. They share those wants and needs.”
He reached up and pulled her down to his chest. Her head tucked perfectly against his shoulder, and he proceeded to tell her many things.