Page 32 of His Perfect Bride
The process of breaking free from all that had happened would take time. But at the very least, he was making progress—even if it was slow—in the right direction.
He might be returning to the land of the sane in some regards, but he’d never be completely like other men. He never had been. He’d always had a tendency toward being obsessed with whatever he was working on. It was just the way his mind worked, and he’d long ago stopped trying to be someone he wasn’t.
Being obsessed over his projects, his studying, and his calculations was one thing. Being obsessed over a woman was a different matter. This had never happened to him before, not with Meredith and not with any of the other women who had shown him interest.
Maybe that was precisely the problem. Previously, other women had been the ones to showhiminterest. While he may have been flattered or even nominally attracted at times, he’d never been the one initiating the interest. This time with Sage, the roles were reversed. She remained aloof and professional, while he was turning into an infatuated imbecile.
He paused in his pacing and blew out a breath. If he was truly honest with himself, he suspected that even if Sage had reciprocated the interest, he still would have been an infatuated imbecile. There was just something about her that had snagged him and wouldn’t let go, almost as if she’d gotten into his circulatory system and was running through his blood.
The soft patter of footsteps overhead was the sign that she was awake, likely getting ready before she went into Augusta’s room.
The two women were leaving this morning to travel to Salt Spring Island to track down Sage’s sister. He’d contemplated telling them that he’d take them since he was used to traveling around Vancouver Island, mostly by canoe with the aid of Native guides.
He’d done a great deal of exploring during his early months on the island to help the governor determine the best places for roads and bridges. During the past couple of years, more of his work had taken place up in the Fraser River Valley on the mainland. Nevertheless, he was still familiar with much of the coastline of Vancouver Island.
Even so, he didn’t want to impose upon the two women. They would be fine hiring someone to take them to the island. It wasn’t far from Victoria, and the ride would be easy, especially on a day with calm weather.
He turned to his desk, stalked around it, and plopped down into the chair. Moreover, he had work to do. Now that he’d started reviewing the older diagrams of his first few suspension bridges, new ideas were formulating, and he needed to capitalize on those ideas.
If only visions of Sage weren’t interrupting his thoughts every few seconds…
He bent over the sheet he’d already tried studying and recalculating. He stared at it unseeingly, the numbers and equations swimming in his mind without any purpose.
With a frustrated sigh, he shoved back from his desk and stood. What was he going to do about his preoccupation with Sage? Normally, he embraced whatever his mind fixated upon. He let himself run with concepts and spend hours dissecting and discovering every nuance.
But he couldn’t do that with her. Not only wouldn’t that be healthy for him, but he’d likely scare her onto the first ship sailing back to England, and he didn’t want that to happen. Already, he was dreading the day when she’d walk out of his life—which wouldn’t be long, just until Augusta got tired of being in Victoria and decided to move on.
How, then, could he restrain his growing desires for her without driving himself to the brink of insanity?
He sat back down, braced his elbows on his desk, and pressed his palms into his eyes. He had to get over Sage, that’s what he had to do. And he had to learn to control his obsessions. That was all there was to it.
At the patter of footsteps—Sage’s—coming down the stairway, he sat back up, combed his fingers through his hair, only to remember that it was short and manageable. He quickly attempted to straighten his cravat, then realized he hadn’t donned one. He glanced down to find he was still wearing the same shirt from the party last night and that his waistcoat was gone and his trousers wrinkled.
He should have done a better job grooming himself this morning. But most likely Sage would pass by his study and not notice him.
As her footsteps drew nearer, he perched on the edge of his chair. Even though a part of him wanted to pretend he was busy, another part of him simply didn’t care and only wanted to get a glimpse of her as she walked by.
When she appeared in his doorway and knocked against the doorframe, he jumped to his feet. He hadn’t expected her to stop, and now he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
“Good morning, Mr. Lennox.” Her pretty face with its dainty features was made all the prettier by her eyes, which were always so wide and blue and bright.
Today she was wearing a pale green gown which looked as though it had been made to fit her to perfection, showcasing her slender but womanly form. She’d fashioned her hair as she usually did in a chignon, which always seemed to draw his attention to her elegant neck and slender collarbones.
He knew he was being rude by staring so blatantly. He needed to greet her in return. But not only couldn’t he think of what to say, he couldn’t get his tongue to work.
“Augusta is still abed.” Sage’s lashes were long and only made her eyes more vibrant. “She would like to speak with you, if you would be so kind as to join her in her chamber.”
“You may let her know that I shall be there shortly.”
“Thank you.” She gave a slight deferential bow of her head before turning and starting back to the stairs.
He waited until he heard her footsteps overhead again before venturing out of his study and heading to Augusta’s bedroom. As he tapped lightly and was welcomed in, his gaze went first to Sage standing beside the bed, a worried line creasing her forehead.
“I’m just tired today, that’s all,” Augusta was saying. “It was a busy week and was busy last night.”
“That’s understandable.” Sage lifted Augusta forward and plumped one of her pillows. “You should rest.”
“You’re sure you won’t mind my not going?”
