Later, as she prepared for bed, Aislinn was filled with a nearly overwhelming bout of nervousness at the idea of sleeping next to Luke again. They had sat on the sofa, talking about a variety of topics, some serious, some just downright silly, before Gabe had informed them that Fern and Ivy were asking to bid them good night.
Together, they had gone to the nursery and had spent an extended amount of time reading stories to the girls, two books each. He was as talented at making stories enjoyable as he was at writing letters, changing words and adding his own thoughts into the story, which at times were very comical.
Upon leaving the nursery, Luke announced that he was going to take a bath. With cheeks heating at the image that had spontaneously formed in her mind for no good reason, she’d excused herself and ended up in the study, where, ironically, she’d found a book about America. It was one she’d already read and had enjoyed, so she forced herself to become engrossed in the pages. Which she had done, namely because images of Luke seeing the things described in the book had formed in her head.
Smelling amazingly clean, with his hair still damp and wearing his American pants and shirt, he’d found her in the study, where he’d informed her that he was going to read for a time, but she could go on up to bed.
So here she was, in the dressing room, where she’d shed her gown, petticoat, and chemise and donned a nightdress, wondering if she should have left on more. He’d slept in his clothes last night, and she questioned if that had been something he’d wanted her to do, as well.
Though their new kinship and the bond she’d felt growing stronger as they’d sat on the sofa were wonderful, she couldn’t help but question if it would lead to more.
The thought embarrassed her, for she should not be thinking, nor wishing, for such things. He had married her for one reason. They’d agreed that their marriage was in name only. Married but not being married. That’s what she’d said.
Fully trained in all aspects of being a governess, along with living amongst staff where every subject was whispered about behind closed doors, she knew the full details of procreation. Some particulars had always made her quiver with disdain, but quite the opposite was true right now. The idea of Luke touching her, kissing her, didn’t repulse her in the least.
Truth was, it filled her with quite unusual sensations, and a yearning she couldn’t deny.
It was foolish, utterly so, to imagine they would have marital relations, yet she found herself wondering if not being married, while being married, could last. He’d said marriage was for ever.
But they wouldn’t be together. He would return to Montana after the guardianship was settled, and she’d live here with the girls. That’s what they’d agreed to, and she wouldn’t go back on her word. He belonged in America.
‘Oh, dash it all,’ she uttered. She was driving herself mad with her own thoughts, and unless she wanted him to catch her standing in the dressing room like some ninny, she needed to go to bed.
Opening the door slowly, she peered into the bedroom. There had been no noise, but she wanted to make sure he hadn’t entered yet.
Thankful the room was empty, she quickly scampered to the bed and slipped beneath the covers. Moments later, realising she’d left all the lamps lit, she flipped back the covers to leap off the bed and quickly blew out two, then turned down the wicks on the one next to the bed on his side and the one in the dressing room.
Back in bed, she wished she’d brought the book with her, but rapidly decided it would be better if she was asleep when he entered. She closed her eyes, only to have them pop open, claiming she wasn’t sleepy.
Flipping onto her side, she nestled her cheek deep in the pillow, but then realised she was facing the empty side of the bed. Rolling onto her other side, and crowding the edge of the bed, she pulled the covers up over her shoulder to try again.
That’s when the door opened. ‘Good,’ Luke said with his permanent grin in place, ‘you aren’t asleep yet.’
Her throat went dry.
Luke headed straight to the changing room, tossing the book on the bed en route. ‘I’ll be right back.’ He’d thought ahead tonight. After his bath, he’d put on a pair of his old pants. They were roomy and would be more comfortable to sleep in than the ones he’d worn to bed last night.
That was a ridiculous thing for a man to worry about, especially a married man. It might not always be that way for him, but it was for now. Would be until after the guardianship hearings were completed. Then, he’d ask Aislinn what they should do about their marriage.
Strike that.
Then he’d ask her what she wanted to do about their marriage.
Until then, he’d be sleeping in his britches.
With his boots, socks, and shirt removed, he blew out the light in the changing room and entered the bedroom. ‘I want to show you something.’ He turned up the wick on the lamp before climbing on the bed and picking up the book. ‘This is the book you were reading downstairs.’
She nodded.
He pushed the pillow behind him up against the headboard, leaned back, and flipped open the book, looking for the page he wanted. ‘Scoot over here, where the light is better.’
She moved her pillow next to his and leaned back against it, staying under the covers from the waist down. Her nightdress was again buttoned clear to her chin and the sleeves went down to her wrists.
He held the book open wide, so they both could see the page. ‘See this drawing of a tornado? It’s exactly like the one I saw.’
‘It is? Did you write about it? I don’t remember that.’
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘But it was a long time ago. Fern and Ivy hadn’t been born yet. I was travelling across Oklahoma Territory, on my way from New Orleans to Colorado. There were places that the land was so flat, it was like looking over the sea, all the way to the horizon. They call the covered wagons in the wagon trains prairie schooners, because their canvas covers waved in the wind like the sails of ships on the ocean. There were four of us heading for the gold towns in Colorado.’
‘Was one of them Raf?’
‘No, I didn’t meet up with him until Colorado.’ He couldn’t help but wonder how things were going back at the ranch. Branding should be done by now. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he pointed to the top of the picture. ‘See how the artist drew these clouds? See how they look like boiling water?’
‘Yes, they resemble that.’
He shook his head. ‘I tried to explain to Rowland what the tornado looked like. I’d told him it was massive, but I couldn’t describe it, couldn’t get the words right. This person did. See right here, they say that the clouds looked like a pot of water that had been heated to a rolling boil. That’s what I saw. Within a matter of minutes, the blue sky had turned grey and the clouds started churning. Then they hit a boil. If I’d have thought to explain it like that, it would have described it better.’
The memory of what he’d seen that day would stay with him for ever, but now he had the words to describe it. Thanks to this book. ‘The clouds were all shades of grey and green, from dark to light. I’d never seen anything like it. The other men jumped off their horses and took cover in the grass, holding onto boulders. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but watch the sky. Then this tail dropped down out of the clouds, whipping around like rope. The more it whipped, the bigger it became, until it was a big cone shape, just like this picture. The wind had been blowing, because it always blows there, but when that big funnel formed, it was like it sucked all the wind into it. Everything around me was still. Not a blade of grass moved. There was a moment of eerie silence, until the noise of the funnel hit with a roar like a train.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’
‘I was too fascinated to be scared. It wasn’t coming at us. It was moving across our path, a distance ahead of us. See how the artist drew the dirt and dust where the tail touched the ground?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s exactly what it was like. Everything that tail touched was sucked up inside that funnel. After it was over, and we rode through where it had been, it looked like someone had swept the earth with a broom, leaving nothing but hard-packed ground. Then we came upon the debris it spit out as the tail got sucked back up into the clouds. There were tree limbs, big ones, and we hadn’t seen a tree for miles.’
‘The tail got sucked back up?’ she asked. ‘It just disappeared?’
‘Yes, as quickly as it had appeared. Within no time, the sun was out and the sky was blue.’ He studied the picture again. Downstairs, when he’d seen it, it had reminded him of the first time he’d seen her. How both sights had mesmerised him. He couldn’t tell her that, but he’d never forget it.
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, ‘Can you turn to another page?’
‘Sure. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘You didn’t. I just want to know about the mountains. It’s closer to the front of the book.’
He knew the page. It had reminded him of home. Strike that. This was home now.
‘Is that what it looks like at your ranch?’ she asked, pointing at the picture of the mountains he’d found.
Again, it was a drawing, a good one. ‘Yes, but this is black and white with some grey. Colourless. The one thing the Montana Territory is not, is colourless.’
‘Tell me about it.’
He did, all about the mountains and foothills, the rivers and lakes, the ranch, and that big Montana sky that went on for ever. About the Northern Lights and the hip-deep snow, the fields of flowers in the summertime and the colourful trees in the autumn.
They sat there for hours, with her picking out other pages in the book, and him answering all her questions When she was struggling to keep her eyes open, he set aside the book and blew out the light. Taking her pillow with her, she scooted over to the other side of the bed. He thumped his pillow and lay down. She was lying on her back, not her side with her back to him, and he reached down, taking a hold of her hand.
‘Good night, Aislinn,’ he said.
‘Good night, Luke.’
It was amazing how wonderful her softly whispered words made him feel.
When Luke had practically dragged her into the dress shop, Aislinn had believed she’d never wear the dresses and gowns that he’d approved for purchase. Now, standing in the lobby of the theatre, with a glass of champagne in her hand and surrounded by silk wallpaper, tiled mosaic floors, ornate woodwork, and sparkling chandeliers, not to mention the people dressed in their finery, she was very grateful for the beautiful dusty-rose-coloured gown she was wearing.
She was also grateful for the schooling on current events from the household staff, which made her confident in responses if needed, But she was most grateful for Eugenia Cunningham, the Countess of Chatsworth. Genie, as she’d asked to be called, was as delightful as she was beautiful. Her hair was a golden-yellow, and her blue eyes were as light in colour as her silver-blue gown, but it truly was her personality that shone.
Aislinn had never been to any social events, not even balls that had been held at Havenbrook. She’d always remained in the nursery with the girls, but between Mary Ann, Genie, and Luke, she wasn’t even nervous.
Not even when a hush had filled the room upon their arrival. It hadn’t lasted long, nor had the whispers. An elderly man, whose name she couldn’t recall, the Duke of somewhere, had been the first one to approach them.
With a slight bow, the man had introduced himself, and said to Luke, ‘No other on either continent is correct.’ The man had then said to her, ‘I am honoured to make your acquaintance, my lady. I am now convinced that every paragraph your husband wrote in his letters is one hundred percent true.’
‘He does have a way with words,’ Aislinn had said while glancing up at Luke, who winked at her.
Other introductions had quickly followed, and during a pause, Genie had whispered, ‘Don’t even try to remember all the names. It’s useless. I still don’t know half of them, and believe me, it has made no difference.’
Luke had collected a glass of champagne for both of them from a uniformed attendant, and when Michael had waved him over to a group of men, Genie had told him to go, that his wife was in good hands.
Aislinn had agreed and was enjoying visiting with Genie, talking about her son who had just turned two and was learning to talk.
Luke wasn’t far away, only a few steps, and each time she glanced his way, their gazes met. The warmth that filled her was reminiscent of last night, of falling asleep with him holding her hand.
‘Now, there is a man who only has eyes for his wife,’ Genie whispered.
Heat rushed into Aislinn’s face.
‘Don’t be embarrassed,’ Genie said. ‘Be proud. For believe me, others would give up the jewels around their necks for a love like that.’
At that moment, Aislinn knew she would give up everything, anything, for Luke to truly love her. That was an outrageous thought for a person who’d never wanted to get married to have, but Luke made her have all sorts of outrageous thoughts.
He and Michael joined her and Genie, and the evening proceeded. The performers were most likely excellent, their colourful costumes undeniably gorgeous and the overall performance well deserving of the applause, but Aislinn was too engrossed with the man beside her to give the production the attention it deserved.
Luke was clearly here because it was expected of him.
No one but her would have noticed, but it confirmed that she couldn’t let his life change any more than it already had.
Last night in bed he’d been animated, jovial, excited to tell her about things and places in the book. She’d felt his excitement, and that had increased her own as she’d listened to his numerous adventures. Many that she’d never heard about in the letters.
It was clear how much he loved Montana, and how much he needed to return to the life he loved.
Over the next few days, the theatre wasn’t the only time she sensed weariness in him. The dinner parties, balls, and other events they attended that week were a nuisance to him. He didn’t say that. In fact, he was his charming self the entire time. She simply knew. Like him, she was willing to do whatever was needed for Fern and Ivy, so said nothing, but would much rather be home with them each evening and knew Luke felt the same. That was where he was the happiest, when they were home together.
Even after the girls were in bed, he was happy. Each night, he carried another book upstairs and they would read through it together. They weren’t all about America. It didn’t seem to matter what the subject was, they enjoyed talking about whatever was on the pages. Although, none of the others instilled the enthusiasm in his voice as that first one had.
It was a full week later, when they were attending an opera, that Aislinn determined enough was enough. Luke shouldn’t be tortured, and that was exactly what was happening. She could tell by the way he kept shifting in his seat and flinching every time a singer hit and held a high note that, in her mind, should have shattered the chandeliers.
When the intermission arrived, and they proceeded down the marble steps with the ornately carved banister, she suggested they leave.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, with a gleam of hope in his blue eyes.
She smiled up at him. ‘Very.’
He kissed her temple right there on the steps. ‘Thank you.’
He did that more often than not, and though she loved those tiny kisses on her temple or cheek, her lips quivered with jealousy each time his lips touched her skin.
At the doorway, he asked, ‘Will you be all right here for a moment? It’s raining, I’ll just step outside to ask the attendant to have our coach brought around.’
‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’
He was gone less than half a minute, but in those few seconds, her heart had come to a stop.
Arriving in front of her, he grasped her arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Percy and Hazel.’ Pushing the dead air from her lungs, she continued, ‘At the top of the stairs.’
He touched her cheek with his other hand. ‘Good for them.’
He’d never taken his eyes off her, so she repeated, ‘They are at the top of the stairs. Probably walking down them now.’
His grin grew. ‘Maybe they’ll trip.’
She had to smile, yet asked, ‘Aren’t you even going to look?’
‘Why would I want to look at them, when I can look at a face more beautiful than all others on all continents?’
Then, before she had time to think of a response, he kissed her. On the lips. A soft, warm kiss that lasted no more than a still moment, but would live with her for ever.
‘It’s raining pretty good.’ He shrugged off his black, tailcoat and draped it over her shoulders, before leading her out the door to where their carriage was pulling up.
Once inside the carriage, with her thoughts slowly returning, she asked, ‘Did you know they were there?’
‘No, but considering they’ve been in London for several days now, I assumed we’d encounter them sooner or later.’
Later would have been totally fine with her.
‘Is that why you wanted to leave?’ he asked.
They were sitting side by side, and she laid a hand on his knee. ‘No. I wanted to leave because you were miserable.’
He covered her hand with his. ‘I was trying to hide that.’
She giggled. ‘I know.’
‘Now I know why my father was so averse to the opera and didn’t make me attend one when my mother suggested it. He said music shouldn’t hurt your ears, and I agree.’
She agreed, too, and knowing they had opera houses in America, asked, ‘You never attended one in America?’
‘No.’ He laughed. ‘I had all the music I needed.’
‘How so?’
‘Raf plays the guitar, and he taught me.’ His smile grew. ‘I’ll have to buy one here, play some real music for you.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘So would I.’
She would like another kiss, too, and half-afraid he’d be able to read her mind, she looked the other way. ‘Raf must be talented.’
‘Not as talented as his dog,’ Luke said with a laugh. ‘Banjo, that’s his name. He can dance on his hind legs while Raf plays guitar. It’s a sight to see.’
She laughed at the image in her mind, but it didn’t chase away the one of Percy and Hazel on the stairway. ‘Do you think Percy and Hazel have told others that I’m—I was Fern and Ivy’s governess?’
‘Probably.’
Others knew. Genie and Michael, and of course Mr Watson and Mr Gaines.
‘I’m not embarrassed about that, and you shouldn’t be, either,’ he said.
‘I’m not, I just worry that—’
‘Don’t.’ He caught the side of her face and tugged it so she had to look at him. ‘Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter.’
If only that were true.
She tried to smile or nod, but he was leaning closer, and the next thing she knew, his lips were touching hers. The warmth and pleasure of their lips melding together filled her very soul with satisfaction. It also thrilled her beyond belief.
Responding to his lips, the way they moved across hers, didn’t take any thought. Meeting each caress was natural. As natural as breathing.
His arms were around her, and he leaned her back in the seat as the intensity of the kiss increased. His lips parted and his tongue slid along the seam of her lips. A great desire rose up inside her and she parted her lips, not in surrender, but in unity.
This was exactly what she’d wanted. What she’d thought about over and over again. The desires that had lived inside of her were satisfied, in one way, and increasing in another. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she was embarking upon a thrilling, life-changing adventure, and she was more than willing to fully participate in it.
Their arrival home brought an end to their kissing, but she wasn’t disappointed. Not with the way Luke looked at her. He had the same excitement in his eyes as when he talked about America and all his adventures.
It was raining hard, a complete downpour, and though he held his coat over her head as they ran from the carriage to the house, they were soaked by the time they entered.
‘Forgive me,’ Gabe said, hurrying towards them. ‘I didn’t expect your arrival so soon. I would have met you at the carriage with an umbrella.’
‘No harm done,’ Luke said, handing over his wet coat with one hand and wiping at the water dripping from his hair onto his forehead with the other.
‘I’ll collect each of you a towel,’ Gabe said.
‘No need,’ Luke said, putting pressure on the small of her back with one hand. ‘We’ll go change.’
With her heart beating erratically, Aislinn hurried towards the stairway, with Luke at her side. The wet hem of her gown slapped against her shins, and she had no doubt she was leaving droplets in her wake. She didn’t care. The idea of continuing to kiss him was filling her mind. The shine in his eyes said that’s what he was thinking, too.
Penny was in the hallway and dipped into a quick curtsey. ‘The lamps have been lit in your room. Will you be needing anything else?’
‘No. Thank you,’ Aislinn replied, barely pausing.
Luke opened the door to their room. She quickly stepped inside and, perhaps because of the prominent four-poster bed, she suddenly became unsure. Would their kissing lead to something more? Dare she hope? She shouldn’t, but it was impossible not to. Not to want more.
His hand clasped hers and he stepped around her, so they were face-to-face. ‘I’m fully aware that things have not been resolved with the guardianship, nor do I know what will come after that decision, but I do believe that our marriage will continue. I’m curious as to your opinion on it continuing in name only.’
Her opinion. He was giving her the choice. Things were unresolved, and when those resolutions were determined, it would affect their marriage, whether it was in name only or not. Because she knew one thing for certain—he didn’t belong in England. He’d never be truly happy here. He belonged underneath that big Montana sky he loved so much.
Her true choice was whether she loved him enough to allow him to have the life that would make him happy, not the one that had been thrust upon him by responsibility.