Page 63 of In Want of a Wife
“And still you went through with the plan and wrote Miss Abrams?”
“I couldn’t allow her letter go unanswered. It… intrigued me.”
“So now you are bringing her home to your brother, and he is still unaware you have found a bride for him?”
Rafe squinted his eyes, snapping his attention to his mother as she shoved the cat in his arms and shuffled to the stove to take off the kettle.
“It is not for me to meddle between you two, but I will warn you of this. You will break her heart if you continue on with this foolish plan. And I dare venture”—she grabbed her cup of tea and turned toward the hall—“yours as well.”
“Goodnight, Mother,” he said mostly to himself.
He set the cat down and turned his attention back toward Lily, who was gazing through her telescope and taking notes.
She lived for the stars as much as he lived for the sea, and he couldn’t look away as the fireflies darted in the long grass. The sweet fragrance of the moonflowers by the door flooded his senses. He longed for a good cigar.
He longed to touch her more.
And to kiss her.
That’s all he could think of when they were sailing earlier. The wind had tossed her hair about, and that beautiful full smile of hers was nearly as bright as the late June sun. She hadn’t sat by either but asked for him to teach her to sail, so he had.
They had spent hours out on the ocean together before the sun dropped heavy and orange in the sky, and it was time to return for dinner.
And he still wished to kiss her.
“Are you ever going to come outside?” she called to him at last. “Or do you plan only on keeping watch?”
He laughed in spite of himself. He would miss her when he left.
And he had to leave.
But until then, they could share what little they could, right?
Was it wrong to kiss?
It was only going to be one, but what happens when one kiss is not enough?
That way led to trouble. But he gathered he had heaped it upon himself the moment he had read her letter.
She needed a husband, but he could never be that for her.Especially when Henry didn't have a wife. He would only disappoint Lily. She needed a stable, honest husband.
He knew he should have said goodnight and left, knew as he stepped out of the cottage and walked toward her, knew it as he approached, and she looked up from the telescope and flashed a smile in his direction that made him forget his name.
Trouble.
“Are you looking for something?” he asked, stopping short of touching her.
“Aren’t we all?”
“I suppose. I mean in that…” He pointed toward the telescope.
“Oh, yes, I’m looking for… oh wait, do you truly wish to know? I don’t want to bore you.”
“You never bore me, Lily.”
“You say that now, but given enough time…”
He sighed, then chuckled. “What are you studying up in the sky this evening?”
