Page 68 of His Unforgettable Bride
She reluctantly focused on anything and anyone but him. Livy and Cy had disappeared from the room. Tabitha stood near the door, nodding to the beat. Icala was transferring an empty dessert platter to the rear workroom.
As the song tapered to a halt, Gray seemed reluctant to release his hold on her as his eyes held hers captive. “Would you care for a breath of fresh air?”
Breath of fresh air? Or did he seek something more? Like a kiss? And was that what she wanted, too?
Twenty-One
Let me recommend, therefore, far beyond all the rules ever pennedby teachers of etiquette, the cultivation
of kind and loving feelings.
He could not kiss Juliet tonight.
At least not until he had the chance to talk to her about everything on his mind since he had learned he was not Alex Sherwood.
But heaven, blessed heaven. He wanted to kiss her desperately. He had longed to pull her into his arms from the moment he had stepped out of the house and witnessed her talking to Reverend Channing. Her beauty had taken his breath away, and he still was not sure he had recovered it fully.
“So…” She leaned against the back of the tearoom beside him. Sparse starlight filtered through the long-limbed branches draped overhead. Even though the December night was cool, the air was refreshing after the stuffiness inside and after all the dancing.
“So…” He imitated her posture and tone.
“Are you thinking the same thing I am?”
“I highly doubt it.” All he thought about was her. Dancing with her had been a form of sweet torture, holding her near but having to restrain himself. Even talking and bantering over the past week had been more difficult than usual as he tried to pretend that their kiss had not altered his world. It had rattled him to his bones.
He slid a sideways glance at her.
She cocked one elegant brow at him. Even in the dim lighting, her face was as expressive as always. A face that meant more to him than anything else.Shemeant more to him than anything else.
But was that true by default because he had lost everything else he esteemed? Or would he feel as strongly about her even if he had met her at another time and place when his life was normal and full?
He suspected the man he had once been would not have cherished her as she deserved. But did his past mistakes matter anymore? He was becoming a better man. At least, he hoped he was.
Yet, how did a man without a past make his way into the future? Stumbling, no doubt.
He had pondered his identity daily since learning he was not a Sherwood. On the one hand, he was relieved he had not committed the crimes in Barkerville. On the other hand, he was back to knowing almost nothing about himself except for the few sparse feelings and memories that had come to mind.
All week, he had wrestled with the fact that he might never recall his actual name, his birth family, or any of the years of his life up to this point. Indeed, it was a dreadful thought with the power to plague him forever.
Yet he had no means to restore his memories. Was it finally time to dedicate his life to living in the present? And was the first step establishing himself as a carpenter under the name Gray…whomever?
Evidently, he would need a new last name sooner rather than later.
At the movement of an embracing couple within the shadows of the nearby trees, he stood taller. They were likely just another pair who had stepped out for air…or more.
Beside him, Juliet locked in on the couple too. She stiffened briefly, then released a soft chuckle as she leaned against the tearoom again. “Fancy that. Livy and Cy canoodling.”
Gray peered through the darkness and tried to see the pair more closely, this time catching sight of Livy’s feathery white gown, which was difficult to miss. “I saw Cy leading Livy away earlier. And now I know why.”
“Do they need chaperones?” Juliet’s voice held teasing. “Shall we go over and offer our services?”
“Maybe we should,” he teased back, although he was happy for the two and would never begrudge them a moment of privacy. “The other day, I returned a book to the library and caught them reciting poetry to one another while Tabitha read silently in the room’s corner.”
“Dreamy poetry, I assume.”
“Shakespeare.”
“Snakes alive, of course it was.”
