Page 39 of The Moonstone Marquess
Even his drunken moments.
Her lavender scent.
The sunshine in her smile and the slight upturn of her lips.
The blush on her cheeks.
The viscountess repeated her request to have him join their card game.
“I cannot.” He used his arm as an excuse not to play. In truth, thiswasone of the many things he was no longer able to do. He could not hold his cards and easily discard the unwanted ones. Nor could he play billiards. Row a boat.
So many things were lost to him along with his arm.
He could not bear it if Phoebe were lost to him, too.
Chapter Eight
Phoebe was surprisedwhen the Marquess of Burness rode up to Moonstone Cottage the following morning in time to join them for breakfast. He also announced he would be riding with them to the church for the marionette show.
The girls were beside themselves with glee, running circles around him and quacking as he tried to walk inside and make his way into the dining room. “Ducklings, I’m going to fall atop you if you keep running between my legs.” But his laughter was rich and heartfelt. “Good morning, Phoebe. Surprised to see me?”
“Yes.”
“Pleased?”
She tried to stifle her tingles. “I’m not sure yet.”
But that only earned her a wry smile from this exceedingly handsome man. She could not take her gaze off him even as she bent to pick up Imogen, who was still clinging to his leg.
He looked magnificent, not only because he was built divinely and had the masculine good looks to make any woman swoon. There was something different about him. He was smiling with genuine warmth, and his happiness was obvious.
Indeed, there seemed to be a lightness to his demeanor that she had never seen before.
She continued to stare at him.
He quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “What is it, Phoebe?”
She shook her head. “You ought to smile more often. It suits you. I mean…it is a genuine smile and reaches into your eyes. Dare I say it?”
“Say what?”
“You do not look angry. Indeed, you look happy, and I do not think you have felt this way in a very long time.”
Her words clearly jolted him. He raked a hand through his hair and cast her a pained look.
Her own smile faded. “Oh, my stupid, big mouth. I should not have said anything. If only I’d kept my opinions to myself and let you enjoy the moment. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it isn’t your fault. I just… Come outside with me a moment.” Without awaiting her response, he strode out onto the terrace and continued across the garden toward the beach.
“Girls, go into the dining room and wait for us. We won’t be gone long.” She left them in the care of Chloe and hurried after him.
Her heart ached for this proud, wounded man. His pain must have run so deep for him to forget the sensation of happiness.
“My lord…”
He paused at the top of the steps and shook his head. “Phoebe, you need to call me Cormac.”
“All right…Cormac.”
