Page 4 of The Dream of Love
She had upset him. His brogue was prominent again. She particularly loved the way he rolled his r’s.Lady R-r-r-emi, he would call her, the sound of her name quite delicious as it rolled off his tongue.
She smothered a sigh when he removed her boot and began to run his fingers gently along her foot and up her leg. How many women would die happy in such a position? If she weren’t in so much discomfort, she might enjoy the moment. “I unlaced the boot earlier. I didn’t think it was that bad,” she said and yelped when he touched her ankle. “Ow! What are you doing?”
“Checking for broken bones.” Those deep blue eyes of his reflected his exasperation. “You canno’ stay here, Lady Remi.”
“I know. Are you trying to convince me or yourself? And please, just call me Remi.” It seemed appropriate now that her foot was resting on his muscled thigh. “What may I call you?”
“Vicar Carstairs.”
“Ah, ever proper. But since you happen to have your fingers indelicately wrapped around my leg just now, I think I shall call you Adam. Only in private, however. I hope you know I have more sense than to refer to you by your given name in company.”
He stared at her swollen ankle. “Let me get you settled in my parlor. Would you care for some tea? You must be hungry. I can offer you a lamb stew or if you prefer something lighter, I have freshly baked bread and lemon cake. I also have an assortment of jams, mustards, root vegetables, and cheeses.”
She laughed. “You are a veritable marketplace.”
“The ladies of Wellesford believe I need looking after.” He shrugged. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. But I have given up trying to convince them.” He picked up the boot he had taken off her injured foot and cast her the sort of look one gave when about to do something unpleasant. “Remi, put your arms around my neck.”
The request startled her, but she quickly realized he only meant to carry her into the parlor. It was either that or allow her to hop on her one good foot all the way there. She might have done it, but stairs were involved, and she doubted she could hop up those without falling on her face.
He lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather, enveloping her in his strong, solid arms. The smart remark she was about to make simply flew out of her head, all her senses now overwhelmed by him.
Her thoughts remained scrambled as he carried her out of the church and into his private quarters. Since her head rested on his shoulder, her lips and nose precariously close to his neck and the firm cut of his jaw, she could not help but inhale the scent of lather from his morning shave and a hint of musk from the cologne he must have put on after his bath.
A pleasant heat emanated from his body, but she dared not burrow into his warmth or allow her hands to roam freely along his muscles. She cleared her throat. “I believe Lord and Lady Welles are in residence at Sherbourne Manor. They are very kind and would take me in if we asked them. Even if they are not at home, his aunt, Lavinia, will be there. We get along very well together.”
He nodded. “Let’s eat first, and I’ll take you over immediately afterward.”
He settled her on the sofa, propped a cushion behind her back and another under the injured foot, which he’d now positioned so that it was elevated on the sofa seat. “You have a lot of books,” she remarked, rather liking the cozy comfort of the room. There was a desk in the corner, where she imagined he did most of his writing.
“I like to read.” He ran fingers through his hair as he stared down at her. “There isn’t much else for me to do once I’ve completed my round of visits to the parishioners. I cannot spend my nights drinking at the local tavern.”
“It wouldn’t look right. But you don’t strike me as the sort who particularly cares what others think of him.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “Nor do you strike me as particularly religious or pious. Yet, there is no mistaking you are a good man.”
He turned to leave, muttering an excuse about fetching food, but she took hold of his hand. “Adam, what led you to become a vicar?”
“None of your business, Remi.”
She took no offense at his curt reply. “Ah, I see you did not like the question. Well, you will like these next ones even less. Have you ever been in love?”
“Also none of your business.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Still none of your business.”
She took a deep breath and pressed him on the next. “Have you ever considered marrying?”
She expected another mind-your-own-business response as he eased out of her grasp, but he merely stared at her for the longest time. “Never mind about me, lass. Have you ever considered it?”
Chapter Three
“Have I everconsidered marrying?” Remi was surprised Adam had turned the question on her. He was now staring at her with his exquisite, assessing blue eyes, awaiting her answer. “I never gave it thought. No one has ever asked me. Why? Are you thinking of–”
“Blessed saints. No, you little snoop. I wasn’t proposing to you.”
“Because you already have a sweetheart?”
“Never been married or in love,” he finally admitted, no doubt to shut her up, as they gobbled down the last of the lemon cake and finished sipping their tea.
