The Chance of Love (The Book of Love 7) Page 9

  Joshua listened, but made no comment, allowing her to continue. “I felt saddest for his parents, even though they had never been particularly kind to me or Walter. There would be no grandchildren for them to enjoy and watch grow.”

  She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Then they sent word they wanted me out of the house. I felt only relief at that point, for I realized they were the sort of people who would have taken my child and shut me out.”

  “You are still young. Plenty of time to have children.”

  She nodded. “Assuming anyone will have me.”

  He stopped. By this time, they were about to enter the main Parliament building. “You are in jest, aren’t you?”

  “Do you mean you, Joshua?”

  “Of course.”

  “That is your protective instincts flaring.”

  “Nothing of the sort.”

  “Everything of the sort. You’ve rescued a helpless butterfly. But you must not mistake wanting to protect me with being in love and wanting to marry me. I am not going to let you make that mistake.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what I need?”

  “Need? You are the one who is saving me. What can I possibly offer you?”

  “Love. Happiness. Intimacy and friendship. Passion. Companionship. Children. Shall I continue?” He was frowning at her, no doubt irritated that she was questioning his feelings.

  “Love?” If only it were true. “Then why, in the hours of conversation we’ve had in the past few days, have you never once said, ‘Holly, I love you’?”

  Chapter Nine

  Joshua had not seen Holly in two days, and he missed her. They would be dining together tomorrow evening at Lady Miranda’s home, but seeing her among a sea of Braydens and Farthingales was almost worse than not seeing her at all.

  He’d been angry when they’d parted the other day, not at her, but at himself. She was right. If he truly loved her and wanted to marry her, then why had he never told her? The words were simple. I love you.

  He’d refrained from uttering them for her sake, or so he’d convinced himself. Was it possible she was right? That his need for her was not love so much as the pull of his protective instincts. She pulled at his lustful urges as well.

  That was a polite way of describing the physical ache he was feeling.

  She had him in low brain agony.

  Even now, to know that she was right next door, that he need only take ten strides out of Romulus’s home to be at the Farthingale gate, only made his ache more acute.

  Ronan and Robbie had invited him to go out with them this evening, but he’d declined. There would be women and drinking involved wherever they went, and he wanted no part of the womanizing. As for the drinking, he was sitting alone in Romulus’s study, the fire lit, a bottle of brandy at his side, and a poured glass of it in his hand.

  He had every intention of drinking himself into oblivion.

  That is, until someone knocked lightly on the door and then entered even though he’d grumbled, “I am not to be disturbed.”

  “I won’t stay,” Holly said, coming to his side.

  “Bloody hell.” He set down his glass and shot to his feet. “Who let you in here?” Why hadn’t the butler announced her? What time was it anyway? Where was his jacket? He wore only his shirt and trousers. His shirt was half unbuttoned, and the sleeves rolled up.

  “Violet walked over with me. She’s up in her bedchamber, gathering a few items for herself. She didn’t need me for that, so I came to see you.” She held out what appeared to be a letter. “These are the lists you wanted me to make.”

  The assignment he’d given her.

  He reached out to take it from her, and their fingers grazed. The fire she’d ignited by the mere sound of her voice was now an inferno raging in his blood.

  “I miss you, Joshua.”

  He responded by taking her in his arms and kissing her with abandon, for heat, brandy, and an aching heart were a potent mix. His emotions were raw; he’d missed her so badly and worried that he’d done her more harm than good by failing to admit he loved her. “Holly. Blessed saints. You’re here.”

  He kissed her again, long and hard, crushing his lips to hers in the hope his actions would convey what his slurred, drunken words could not. He knew only that somewhere in his rambling, he’d said, “I missed you, too.”

  He’d also told her she looked beautiful.

  Probably told her things he shouldn’t have.

  So, he stopped talking and continued to kiss her, too lost in the exquisiteness of her body to think of anything but taking her here and now. Even in his brandy-induced fog, he knew this was not possible. But it did not stop him from bringing one hand forward to cup her breast and knead it gently.

  He hoped he was gentle with her, but how could he tell in his inebriated state?

  Her response sent him over the edge, the sweet way her body arched into his and the tautening bud of her breast as he stroked his thumb over it. “Holly, surely you must know.” He kissed the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. “There’s no one else for me.”

  She kissed him back, the touch of her lips so soft and gentle against his bristled jaw. “I feel the same.”

  He felt tears when he touched his lips to her cheek, and it sobered him instantly. “Holly, why the tears?”

  “I don’t know. You overwhelm me. I’m so afraid to allow myself such happiness.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset you the other day.”

  He hugged her to him. “I was the one at fault. You were right, and it made me think about what I was doing.”

  He felt her hands tremble as they rested upon his shoulders. “I do want to protect you, Holly. It is in my nature, and I cannot change this. But if that were all I was feeling, then I wouldn’t have this emptiness in my heart. Two days without you, and I am in agony.”

  He released her and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “Gad, look at me. I’m a mess.”

  “You look wonderful.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think you can be objective about this.”

  “You’re right. I cannot.” She placed her hand upon his chest, and only then did he realize he’d forgotten to button his shirt. He’d felt her cheek against his skin and the soft wool of her gown as he’d lifted her up against him.

  Her touch shot a sweet burn through him, just as it had the other night. He would simply refer to it as the night of the tub incident.

  He wanted to say more, but he heard the click of Violet’s heels on the hall floor and knew she’d be here in another moment.

  Holly stepped away from him and headed to the door. “Good night, Joshua.”

  He smiled at her. “Sweet dreams, love.”

  She blushed. She coughed. She smiled back at him with a sparkle that reached into her eyes.

  Once they were gone, he took Holly’s list and went upstairs to his bedchamber. He stripped out of his clothes, washed up, and settled in bed to read what she had written. The Book of Love sat on his night table, but he did not intend to read it again tonight unless Holly had written something perplexing that he needed to look up.

  “Connections and expectations,” he muttered, unfolding the paper. He smiled at the neatly organized lists and her perfect penmanship. This was the prim, buttoned-up part of Holly that he still found alluring.

  “How are Joshua and I connected?” she’d written. First on her list was the obvious marital connection. His cousin Romulus had married her cousin Violet. His brother Finn had married her cousin Belle. Their second connection was they both came from big, meddlesome families who did not follow society custom when it came to marriage. Farthingales and Braydens married for love.

  The rest of the list held more personal connections, although their descriptions were still fairly general and surprisingly sparse. He knew the reason. They had yet to experience intimacy. His body immediately responded in a low brain way, but he tamped down that urge and c
ontinued to read. They enjoyed talking to each other. They enjoyed being in each other’s company. They liked the look of each other. They enjoyed dancing together. They both enjoyed reading.

  It was what she’d left out that made him realize how little they truly knew about each other. She hadn’t mentioned that they both wanted children. Or that a happy home life was important to each of them. She hadn’t discussed social views or finances, not that he would ever want her worrying about financial matters. One had only to look at her clothes, as elegant and of good quality as they were, to know she was thrifty by nature and would have to be coaxed into spending so much as a shilling.

  Did they enjoy the same foods? Did they like to ride? Did they prefer summer to winter? Not that these were so important to know in the first instance, but it also made obvious how much more they had left to learn.

  And yet, they were the balm for each other’s souls.

  Would Holly have confided the secrets of her marriage to anyone else? He did not think so. That should have been on her list, that they trusted each other. Perhaps she wasn’t certain how he felt.

  He moved on to her list of expectations in a husband and their marriage. At the top of her list was to sleep in the same bed. Blessed saints. An enthusiastic yes to that requirement. Second, was kiss each other every day. No objection to that either. Want children. Love our children. Listen to each other. Yes, listening was important. Marriage had to be a partnership where each showed consideration for the wants and needs of the other.

  Be faithful.

  No problem complying with that. Braydens married for love. They did not stray.

  Drinking and gambling in moderation.

  No problem there either.

  Kindness.

  Laughter.

  He wasn’t an ogre, but neither was he a bleeding heart. However, when it came to Holly, how could he be anything but caring? As for laughter, there would be lots of it as they built a life together. She was the one who held back, who smiled little and rarely behaved like a silly, young thing.

  This would change over time, once she had regained her footing.

  There was another page to the letter, this one having a list for him to complete. On it were a dozen questions. Some were easy, such as what is your favorite food? Do you like to travel and if so, where would you most like to visit?

  Others were harder. How would you describe yourself? What is your idea of the perfect wife? What is the one thing you could never forgive?

  Perhaps that last question wasn’t so hard. He could never forgive an unfaithful wife. This is why he trusted Holly. He understood her nature. She’d sooner walk through fire than betray her marriage vows.

  The same applied to him. He could never hurt Holly that way.

  He set the list aside, these thoughts giving him a headache. Perhaps it was best not to think too hard about these matters. Yes, some things were important to know. But marriage was also a journey of discovery. A leap of faith.

  How dull it would be if there were no surprises.

  But there was one thing he needed to do as soon as possible, a thing he’d put off until this moment, feeling no urgency until now.

  He rolled out of bed and penned a quick note to Holly. He would drop it off personally tomorrow morning.

  What would she think?

  *

  Holly hadn’t expected to see Joshua until this evening, certainly never expected him to come around before he headed off to his post. She had just come down to breakfast when she saw him enter and heard him ask Pruitt to send word to her. “I’m right here, Captain Brayden. Is there something you need?”

  His look suggested he needed a kiss from her, but that was not going to happen in front of the family butler. Besides, anyone in the family could walk into the entry hall at any moment and see them. “Yes, Miss Farthingale. I’d like a word with you.”

  “Come into the drawing room. We can talk there.”

  Pruitt’s expression was implacable, but she knew he did not approve.

  She cleared her throat. “We’ll leave the door open, of course.”

  Joshua smiled at her. “Of course. This won’t take long. I merely wished to hand you this note. You can give me your answer tonight.” He glanced toward the door, saw no one in their line of sight, which meant no one could see them either.

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her with sweet intensity on the mouth. “Think about it. Give me your answer tonight.”

  He released her and strode out.

  In less than a minute, her sisters and Violet rushed in and surrounded her. “What did he say?” Violet asked, giving a little squeal.

  She stared at the note. “He said to think about it and give him an answer tonight.”

  Heather and Dahlia erupted in squeals. “A marriage proposal! It has to be,” Dahlia said with an emphatic nod.

  Heather stared at the paper clasped in her hand. “Open it, and let’s be sure. Shouldn’t he just ask you straight out? Will you marry me? Why hand it to you in a letter and run off?”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Heather, where’s your sense of romance?”

  “I am as romantic as the next young woman, which is all to the point. There is nothing romantic about dropping off a note and running away.”

  In this, Holly had to agree with her youngest sister. “I’ll open it now.” She stepped away to read it without the three others hovering over her. “Oh…”

  Violet looked ready to burst. “What?”

  “He wants to know if I would help him shop for a house in London.”

  Their squeals and screams brought Sophie and Hortensia running in. Sophie placed a hand over her heart. “Girls, you scared the wits out of me. What is going on?”

  They all turned in expectation to Holly since this was her news to tell.

  It was impossible to keep secrets in the family. In any event, the secret was already out because her sisters and Violet knew. Within the hour, all of her cousins would know. Belle and Honey. Poppy. All of Sophie’s daughters, except Laurel, since she was in Scotland at the moment with her husband, Graelem. The news would reach her in a day.

  No doubt someone in the family would send off a note tied to a falcon’s talons. Did they not do this as a means to communicate in medieval times?

  “Captain Brayden has asked for my help in finding a house in London for himself.”

  Sophie broke into a broad smile. “Your help? He wishes to purchase a house?”

  She nodded. “Yes, for him.”

  Her aunt gave her a heartfelt hug. “And for you as well. He simply needs to find the courage to ask you to share it as his wife. But this is a good first step.”

  Hortensia sniffed. “Men are all cowards when it comes to marriage.” She frowned at Violet, who was smiling too hard to care. “Do you think Romulus would have offered for you if he hadn’t been caught doing who knows what to you in his kitchen?”

  “He was applying vinegar to my bee stings. And yes, he would have offered for me, perhaps not at that moment. But it would not have taken him long afterward. Joshua is not a coward either. He is merely taking slower steps toward his ultimate goal.”

  Hortensia was unmoved. “Holly, do not get your hopes up. If he wanted to marry you, there is nothing to stop him from asking you straight out.”

  Sophie gasped. “Hortensia! Shame on you. Why must you always be such a pessimist? Joshua Brayden is not the sort to trifle with a girl’s heart. One has only to see how his eyes light up whenever Holly is in the room to know he cares for her.”

  “What should I tell him, Aunt Sophie?”

  Her aunt laughed and shook her head. “Oh, do not go by what I tell you. The choice is yours. Do you want to shop for a house with him?”

  She nodded. “I do. But it isn’t proper for us to go around alone. Violet will be leaving for Plymouth the day after tomorrow. My sisters are too young to act as chaperones. And your daughters are all too busy with their own responsibilities. I’m not certain thi
s is proper even with a chaperone.”

  Sophie patted her arm. “I’ll escort the two of you. Mrs. Mayhew doesn’t need me to supervise our family meals. I’ve already given her the menus for the week. And the family will survive without me at home for the next few afternoons.”

  Holly threw her arms around her aunt. “Thank you.”

  Hortensia sniffed. “This is a mistake, Sophie. You shouldn’t encourage this behavior.”

  Instead of taking offense, Sophie laughed heartily. “This is quite tame compared to what my daughters did during their debut seasons. I’m shocked they didn’t put poor John in his grave with their antics. They certainly added to my gray hairs.”

  “It’s all settled.” Violet tipped her chin up in the air. “If Aunt Sophie is unavailable on a particular afternoon, then I’m sure Tynan’s wife, Abigail, will be happy to help out. She and Tynan would do anything for his brothers. Besides, it will add to Holly’s stature to be seen around town with the Earl of Westcliff’s wife.”

  Hortensia sniffed and walked out.

  Sophie bussed Holly’s cheek and hurried out as well.

  Holly returned to her room to consider her response and drop it off next door so he would find it waiting for him when he returned after work. She wanted to join him, of course. But she hated to admit Hortensia had a point. The offer was merely to help him find a house. And what would society think if she went about town with him, shopping for his new residence, and then he never offered for her hand in marriage?

  No, this was not Joshua’s way.

  He was only being methodical and taking things one small step at a time in order not to rush her. His kisses last night and this morning had meant something.

  He was giving his heart to her.

  Wasn’t he?

  Chapter Ten

  “Another of my boys is leaving me,” Lady Miranda intoned that evening, staring straight at Joshua as they all sat around the dinner table. The table was elegantly set, silver salvers and candelabra gleaming atop it, soft candlelight to cast a warm glow about the room, and gamefowl and jellied meats in plentiful display.