“I sent everyone away. The Graces, the guests, everyone.”
She looked at him.
“They’re tearing down the tower this week.”
He had her hands again, was kissing them and trying to tell her all the things he couldn’t put into words. “I told them to tear down the tower, and Eugenia will tell you, I found a governess. Eugenia hates her.”
For the first time, Harriet felt a gleam of hope. “What’s she like?” she asked cautiously.
“She has a remarkable figure. I can’t hardly describe it other than saying that it goes out in the front as much as it goes out in the back. She wears black in honor of her husband. He’s been gone a few years.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-six. I can’t think about anything but you, Harriet. You left, and there was no point to the Game anymore. I had no interest in riding. I found myself walking up and down that damn picture gallery four times a day. I dreamed only of you.” He pulled her close again and caught her lips in the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced.
“I can’t be feeling this alone,” he said, voice low. “Don’t tell me that, Harriet. I never felt like this before. Sally and I—we laughed. We were like children together. She never scolded me, or noticed what my faults were. She never made love to me the way you did.”
Harriet smiled.
“I couldn’t have made love to her the way I make love to you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Something happened since we made love in the barn. I can’t stop thinking about you. I meant to leave you alone. You’re a duchess, for God’s sake. My family and my reputation are equally black. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“I don’t care.”
The truth of it must have been in her voice because he said, “You don’t know the worst of it yet,” but something eased in his eyes.
She was tempted to kiss him, but she made herself pull away and sit on the sofa.
He stayed there, a bewildered-looking man, with his dear lean face and a dark glower that made him look like a gypsy king.
“What if you miss all your friends?” she asked. “The problem is that you shouldn’t have to give up all your friends just to be with me. And someday—” she wrapped her hands in her skirts so they wouldn’t tremble “—someday you’ll be tired of me and you’ll miss the Game.”
He looked at her, his eyes dark blue and clear. “Do you think that I will ever get tired of Eugenia?”
A little snort escaped her.
“Then why would you think I’d get tired of you?” He didn’t sound challenging, just interested, the way he always was when there was a question of logic involved. “I love you, Harriet. Love is not something that comes easily to me.”
Her smile was wobbling.
“I didn’t want to love you. Especially when I thought you were a man. And even more when I knew you were a duchess.” He shrugged. “But there we are. I tried to cut you out of my heart, but I love you. How can I let you go? It’s the same question I had with Eugenia, so be warned. I never could send her to school.”
“Are you going to keep me locked in the west wing?”
He walked one step and looked down at her. The look in his eyes…
“I think the west wing is too large for you. I’m thinking more about just one chamber.”
“Oh,” she whispered. It was almost too much to take in. He did love her, plain widowed Harriet. He loved her.
And she knew Jem. He would never let her go.
He reached down to her at the precise same moment she flew to him. They kissed for…Harriet didn’t know how long. They were talking to each other silently. Once she broke it off, only to whisper, “You’ll never leave me, will you?”
He knew what she was saying, and kissed her again before murmuring, “I gave up the Game and it was never that important to me. What happened to Benjamin will never happen to me. Never. I’m staying with you, wherever you are, Harriet.”