Page 78 of To Bed the Bride
“For me it has a lot to do with the weather. For some reason, on cold and rainy days, tea is perfect. Maybe that’s why England has so many tea drinkers.”
They spent nearly an hour talking about subjects great and small. Legislation that Mr. Disraeli was intent on getting passed, the election, and how Logan was coping now that someone else had been elected PM.
Bruce seemed utterly content to sit on the floor between them, occasionally raising his head when his name was mentioned. Today she saw a hint of what he would be like fully grown, his intelligent brown eyes seeming amused.
She could imagine sitting here like this every day. Logan would discuss his work. She would share the advances to the breeding program at Hearthmere. Mr. Contino had recently written her about his need for an addition to the stables and she was predisposed to agree to his idea.
Yet that was foolishness, wasn’t it? Logan had never told her that what he felt for her was something special and unique. Nor had he ever once mentioned that he wanted her in his life on a permanent basis.
What she wanted and what was going to happen were two entirely different things.
Chapter Thirty
Her tea done, Eleanor stared down at her cup. She’d come and told Logan what choice faced her. Staying longer would only hint at scandal.
Eleanor knew she should leave. Right now, before she said something foolish. Telling him how much she’d needed to see him these past weeks wouldn’t be wise. Those words were better kept to herself.
The emotion she was feeling, the same one that kept her awake at night and summoned her tears too quickly, had its roots in friendship and respect. Yet it was so much more.
She loved him. She adored him. This man was the most important person in the world to her.
Keeping silent didn’t diminish the power of what she felt.
She bent and spent some time petting Bruce, who rolled onto his back, asking for a belly rub. She missed the puppy, missed having him in her life. He was a four-legged friend, a companion, and a warm and funny reminder of Logan.
What a wonderful person he was, offering both her and Bruce a haven.
A strange time to begin to cry.
“Eleanor, what’s wrong?”
Logan moved to sit on the ottoman, reaching out and taking her hands in his. A minute later, when she still couldn’t stop her tears, he startled her by standing and pulling her into his arms.
“Eleanor, stop.”
She couldn’t. It was as if all the sadness she’d felt since giving up Bruce had accumulated in a well deep inside her. Whether she wished it or not, the well was emptying.
He gently put his arms around her. “Please, Eleanor.”
She nodded, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her tears. They continued. Resting her cheek against his chest felt like coming home.
“I hate to see you cry.”
“I never cry in front of other people,” she said, her voice sounding watery.
“What would you call this?”
She pulled back, swiping at her face with her hands. “Do you think this is funny?”
His smile evaporated. “This is the least amusing situation I’ve ever been in.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For crying. For coming here.”For needing you.“Thank you for giving Bruce a home.”And me a haven.
“I like having him here. He reminds me of you.”
