One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(48)

"Thank you. A pleasure to meet you both."

"Felicitations on your marriage, my lord," Mrs. Lowery offered, studying Jane in her gloomy attire with ill-concealed fascination as they entered the tiled entry.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lowery."

"Would you care to relax in the parlor with some refreshments?" Seth cut Jane a shrewd glance. "I suspect we would like to visit the beach first off." Jane nodded mutely, too eager for words. After all these years, she was actually at the cottage. With Seth. Her husband. The latter thought settled heavily in her chest. Certainly she had dreamed of marrying Seth, of spending summers at the cottage with him. With their children. A deep ache pulsed beneath her breastbone. In her dreams, however, there had been the cheering awareness that he loved her, that he chose her. He had not been cornered and compelled to marry her.

"Of course. We'll have refreshments waiting for when you return." Seth led her through a room of richly paneled wood. They skirted a massive mahogany desk and ventured outside through a pair of French doors that opened to a breathtaking garden. Roses, lavender, and iris grew in wild abandon, mingling with colorful shrubbery. He guided her beneath a long stretch of vine-covered pergola. They strolled beneath dappled sunlight until the arbor ended. Stepping clear, they turned down a path of crushed shells, leaving the well-tended lawn behind. She turned her face to the kiss of a salt-scented breeze. Fat seagulls circled the air as they made their way down a steep path to the beach.

"I can imagine no better place for a honeymoon," she murmured as the pebbled path gave way to golden sand.

He slid her a slow glance before looking straight ahead. "It was Julianne's idea." A shadow fell over her heart at his gruff reminder. Her stride increased as water, blue as indigo, came into sight. She hurried ahead of him, stopping abruptly at the water's edge to shed her shoes and stockings.

Seth watched her with a curious expression. "What are you doing?"

"I've waited a lifetime to feel sand between my toes."

Tossing her last stocking aside, she straightened and stared ahead, hands braced on her hips, determined that the stern, unsmiling man at her side not ruin the long-awaited moment. The water was calm, the wind rippling its surface only slightly.

"A lifetime?" he echoed. "Your husband never took you abroad? No extravagant honeymoon to the Continent?"

She had enjoyed no honeymoon with Marcus. They married in the spring and he had not wanted to miss the festivities of the Season. Studying the endless blue horizon, she wondered if it was worth explaining that Marcus had preferred to plow the thighs of ladies fresh to Town rather than honeymoon with his new bride.

Lifting her skirts, she hurried to meet the sea lapping at the golden sand—almost as though she fled the unpleasant memories.

Gasping, she laughed as water washed over her toes. "Ah, that's cold!"

"You look like a girl again," he murmured, and something in his voice prompted her to look over her shoulder.

The intense look in his eyes as he surveyed her snatched the breath from her throat. Flustered, she faced the sea again and tried to still her racing heart.

Seeking to fill the charged air, she asked, "Did you miss it? This? Home?" Silence met her question. Only the sighs of the sea and squawking gulls rilled the air. For a moment, she thought he would not reply and warned herself not to expect friendly banter from him. He only brought her here because of Julianne. Not because he wanted to spend time with her. Not because he wanted to give her a real honeymoon. Her hands grew damp where they clutched her skirts.

"I missed my family. My sister. My brother," he answered at last, his voice gravelly and thick with an undercurrent of emotion. "I did not know Albert had died until I returned and found my cousin ensconced at the Priory."

"It was rumored that you were dead."

"Rumors put forth by my cousin," he growled.

"In any case, I was glad to hear the rumors were untrue."

"Indeed," he replied, a curious edge to his voice. "And did you think much of me over the years?"

More than a married lady should. More than you will over know.

Deliberately avoiding the question, she said, "It must have been a shock to return and find Albert dead."

He snorted. "That I should return home unscathed from years of war to find my brother died in his bed from fever?" He laughed, the sound bitter and caustic, twisting inside her belly. "Yes, you could call it a shock."

She nodded, staring hard ahead, afraid to look over her shoulder at him again, afraid that he might suddenly stop when he realized he was talking to her. As he used to. As friends. Despite the painful subject matter, she did not want him to stop, to seal himself off when he recalled the nature of their marriage.

"I had received word of my father's death," he continued, "but he was lost to me before I ever left."

Her stomach knotted, well remembering the day he had earned his father's undying reproach. Their mounts had jumped that fence countless times. There was no reason to expect any of them would not clear it. No reason for Seth to blame himself for Julianne's fall. But he did. That much Jane had known as she stood with him outside Julianne's bedchamber, her hand squeezing his as they waited for the physician to finish his examination. When the earl emerged from the room and struck Seth, her own heart had broken.