Page 74 of Miss Dramatic
Rose woke aware of a pleasant soreness in novel locations and of Gavin’s arm wrapped around her waist. Some inconsiderate bird insisted on greeting the day, though the merest hint of gray suggested sunrise was still a good hour off.
She and Gavin had time yet for one more… serious conversation.
“You ’wake?” Gavin gently brushed a bristly cheek against her shoulder, and temptation blinked awake as well.
“Dozing.” Rose linked her hand with his. “We should be dressing soon.”
“Clothes. Bah. It’s summer. I might even let Roland have a day off. I’m told horses and people both benefit from rest.”
“What do you benefit from?” A version of this question had vexed Rose even in sleep. What did Gavin need to toss in the Twid? What dream would inspire him to his greatest accomplishments?
“The past few hours have done me a considerable power of good,” Gavin said, rolling to his back. “You see before you—or you would if you rolled over—a man awash in delight. Words fail, Rose. And the notion that I must present myself, coherent and properly attired, at my sister’s table later today… I don’t want to leave this place, where I’ve made such lovely memories with you. I don’t want to think, don’t want to”—he paused to yawn—“make small talk. I’m composing the most impressive, moving, sincere proposal in the history of romance. Consider yourself warned.”
“If you offer me that proposal now,” Rose said, “I will render you the standard you-do-me-great-honor rebuff, Gavin.”
He half sat up and leaned over her as she lay on her side. “Rose? Did somebody put a pile of coins among your clothes? Have I bungled? Is there some impediment I must remove?”
“You have not bungled.” She rolled to her back to face him, and that was a mistake. Gavin was luscious with a morning shadow of beard, hair tousled, eyes alight with tenderness and concern. “I bungled. I made Dane’s happiness, his approval of me, the center of my world. Trying to please him, to appease him, to win a smile from him, became my unrelenting challenge. You aren’t happy here in Crosspatch Corners.”
He drew back. “I’m not miserable, but we don’t need to bide at Twidboro Hall. I can move to Hampshire, if you’d rather.”
“Where you will do what? Be the grudging squire at Colforth Hall rather than the grudging squire here in Berkshire? I heard you deliver those sonnets, and I agree with Gemma Drysdale. You were good in Derbyshire. Knew all the lines, rendered the gestures so they felt genuine, had ferreted out the nuances and the humor and humility. You are better now. You are…” His own word came back to her. “Magnificent, and when you were reciting those old sonnets, Gavin…”
His gaze had grown guarded.
“I think you were happy,” Rose went on. “You brought every person in the room with you, and those ladies are not a sentimental bunch.”
“What are you saying?”
“I have had one discontented husband. Hammond Drysdale is a discontented husband. The species wreaks mischief, and I have learned my lesson. Your talent is too rare and precious to be ignored by me and certainly by you. I must continue to steward Colforth Hall—harvest will soon arrive—and you must find a way to respect the talent that brings you such joy, even if your family objects.”
“They apparently don’t any longer, not as they once did.”
“Then the hesitation is yours, Gavin, and I will not be the reason you remain restless and… incomplete.”
He left the bed, looking angry and splendid in the altogether “I will be much more incomplete if you swan off to Colforth Hall and leave me here galloping about on a horse who’s more than ready for his first race course.”
“You are more than ready. Resume acting, if that’s your pleasure. Try your hand at directing. Become the patron Drysdale must impress if his troupe is to rise above obscurity.Use your gifts, Gavin. Will Roland be content to while away his years in some shady paddock now that he’s become the fastest horse in the shire?”
“I am not a horse.”
“You are not a jovial squire, or not only that. My worst fear is that five years from now, I will be your devoted wife, and you will be my darling husband, but when I ask you how you’re faring after a day with the tenants and the steward, you will say you arefine—splendid, even—when you’re bored, frustrated, exhausted, and resentful.”
He pulled on underlinen and riding breeches and paused, shirtless. “How could anybody mistake you for anything other than a dragoness in her prime?”
“I mistook myself for a failed wife and a bewildered widow. For the sake of my dignity, please put on a shirt.”
Gavin grinned and twirled, finishing with an elaborate court bow. “You aren’t indifferent to me.”
Rose got off the bed, pulled her chemise over her head, and tried for a glower. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but if I haul you away to my Hampshire lair now, I fear we’ll leave precious treasure behind. You deserve to be happy, Gavin.”
“I deserve to be married, to you, and while you’ve given me much to think about, I don’t want to take over Drysdale’s troupe. He’s right that he knows that bunch. He’s a competent director, and he can get the best out of them. Where did I…?”
Rose handed Gavin his stockings. “I’m not sure what to do with Drysdale. On the one hand, I think Gemma longs to be free of him. On the other, he’s not truly evil. Merely weak and vain.” Dane had been merely weak and vain. Toss in a dash of arrogance and an unrelenting fondness for the bottle, and the combination became stale very quickly.
Gavin pulled on boots and stockings and assisted Rose into her dress. “Shall I decide his fate?”
“What would you advise?”
