Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(43)

Ten

Every evening since Amberley had died, Livia had gone to sleep with images of him filtering through her mind. Until last night.

It felt strange to be preoccupied with some man other than Amberley, especially when he was so very different. Remembering Gideon Shaw’s lean face and golden-blond hair, and the gentle expertise of his touch, Livia felt guilty and intrigued and unsettled. Yes, quite different from Amberley.

Her fiancé had not been a complicated man. There were no layers of darkness in him, nothing to prevent him from giving and accepting love with ease. He came from a family of pleasant people, who were well-off but never arrogant, and scrupulously mindful of their duty to those in less fortunate circumstances. Amberley had been exceedingly attractive, with dark brown eyes and shiny brown hair, and a becoming cowlick that made the locks fall in a tempting sweep across his brow. He had been slim and fit, loving sports and games and long walks.

It was hardly remarkable that they had fallen in love, for it was obvious to everyone how well suited they were. Amberley brought out a side of Livia’s nature that she had never been fully aware of. In his arms, she had become uninhibited. She had reveled in his lovemaking, and she had been willing to do anything, anywhere, with passionate abandon.

Now that Amberley was gone, Livia had been without a man for a long time. Her mother had lectured that she should apply herself to catching a husband as soon as possible, before the last vestiges of youth had left her. Livia did not disagree. She was lonely, and she missed the comfort and pleasure to be found in a man’s arms. But somehow she could not make herself take an interest in the prospect…she could only wait for someone, something, to free her from the invisible chains that bound her.

She wandered through the oak and hazel forest, which was unusually dark for morning time, as the sky was still covered with a silver-gray haze. Coming to a bridle path, she followed it to a sunken lane, and paused every once in a while to kick a stone with the toe of her leather walking shoe. A breeze stirred the air, drawing a distant rustling from the forest and causing a lone nuthatch to chirp indignantly.

Livia wasn’t aware that someone else was following the sunken lane until she heard a series of footfalls coming up hard behind her. Turning, she saw the tall figure of a man approaching. He walked with a fluid ease that made his sportsman’s clothes seem as elegant as formal wear. Livia drew in a quick breath as she realized that Gideon Shaw had found her.

As spectacular as he had been in the moonlight, Shaw was even more breathtaking in the daytime, his close-cropped hair glowing like antique gold, his face beautiful but completely masculine, the nose narrow and long, the cheekbones high, the eyes astonishingly blue.

For some reason Shaw stopped as their gazes met, as if he had run into an invisible wall. They stared at each other across a distance of perhaps five yards, while Lydia became aware of a low, warm ache inside. There was a peculiar expression on his face…interest struggling through disillusionment…the reluctant fascination of a man who was trying very hard not to want her.

“Good morning, sir.”

The sound of her voice seemed to draw him forward. He approached slowly, as if he feared that a sudden move might startle her into fleeing. “I dreamed about you last night,” he said.

As a conversational gambit, the statement was somewhat alarming, but Livia smiled nonetheless. “What was the dream about?” she asked, tilting her head as she stared at him. “Or is that a dangerous question?”

The wind teased a lock of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “Most definitely a dangerous question.”

Livia realized that she was flirting with him, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “Have you come to walk with me, Mr. Shaw?”

“If you have no objection to my company.”

“The only thing I would object to is your absence,” she told him, enjoying the sight of his sudden easy grin. Motioning for him to join her, she turned and continued along the sunken lane, toward the gatehouse garden in the distance.

Shaw fell into step beside her, his brown leather boots crunching the stray twigs and leaves that had blown onto the lane. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his tweed coat, casting a sideways glance at Livia’s profile as they walked. “You know,” he said casually, “I’m not going to let you get away from me again without telling me who you are.”

“I prefer to remain mysterious.”

“Why?”

She told him the truth. “Because I did something scandalous in the past, and now it is horribly awkward for me to come out in society.”

“What kind of scandal?” His sardonic tone made it clear that he expected her transgression to be a minor one. “You went somewhere unchaperoned, I suppose. Or you let someone steal a kiss from you in public.”

She shook her head with a wry smile. “Clearly you have no idea of how badly behaved we young ladies can be.”

“I would love for you to enlighten me.”

At Livia’s indecisive silence, Shaw abandoned the subject, and fastened his gaze on the tousled, heavily planted cottage garden ahead of them. Long banners of honeysuckle trailed over the garden fence, its fragrance making the air thick and sweet. Butterflies danced amid bright splotches of poppies and peonies. Beyond a plot of carrots, lettuce, and radishes, a rose-covered arch-way led to a tiny glasshouse that was shaded by a parasol-shaped sycamore.