Page 5 of The Moonstone Hero
She frowned at him. “You promised you would not make a jest of my Season.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Lord, you can be a prickly pain sometimes. I am not laughing at you, just at those two clots who fought over you. Your worth far exceeds theirs.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” She stopped frowning at him, picked up the book of poetry she had intended to read to him, and then sank down into her chair beside his bed and set the book casually on her lap. “I felt much the same as you felt when dealing with the debutantes who sought to catch your eye. They did not really care to know you. It was the same for me. Both earls knew the exact details of my dowry and my family connections, but they never once asked me what I cared about or the sort of woman I hoped to become. They just assumed I would leap at the chance to be their countess.”
“Well, you were raised for the role and would be perfect for it.”
“I don’t think so. I am too outspoken. Those men are looking for biddable wives.”
He closed his eyes a moment, for his head was pounding. The small strip of bandage around his head suddenly felt tight and itchy. “I’m glad you rejected them. You can do better than Maxton or Whitfield. Ella, would you mind drawing the curtain? The clouds seem to be disappearing, and the sunlight is too bright. It is shining in my eyes and giving me a headache.”
She gave a soft gasp and rose immediately to attend to it. “I won’t draw them closed all the way. A refreshing breeze is blowing off the water, and I don’t wish to shut it out. Nor should you be left in complete darkness. Your soul is too dark as it is.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “So I have been told.”
She stood outlined in the lone ray of sunshine now spilling into the room, her graceful form turned away from him as she smoothed out the curtains, then drew them open just a little more before nodding in satisfaction. “It is a good thing you have come to Moonstone Landing.”
“Why? Because the chirpy Lady Ella Stockwell is here?”
She walked back to his side, frowning at him again. “You really are exhausting, you know. Were you raised on curdled milk? I mentioned the village because it is someplace quite special.”
“What makes it so special?”
Her eyes turned bright and sparkling. “You will understand what I mean once you are recovered enough to walk around. The air here is fresh, and our sunshine warms your bones. The sunset on the water is breathtaking, as is the sunrise, although I am rarely awake at that hour to enjoy it. We have woods and meadows full of flowers. A good harbor and plenty of fishing boats. Beaches and splendid cliff walks. We even have a pirate cave or two. And we can claim the best tea shop in all of England.”
“Your eyes sparkle when you speak of this village. You really love it here, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I would stay forever if I could. London is fine to visit, but I much prefer the quieter society offered here. My parents would be very disappointed if I told them, but I expect they know how I feel. I am fairly obvious about it. Do you enjoy sweets?”
He shrugged. “Depends on the sweet.”
He would not mind tasting Ella.
His thoughts momentarily drifted to all the parts of her that would be honey on his tongue. But that was just him being crude. She meant much more to him than that. He had decided to court her, and would have done so had he not suddenly been called to duty a thousand miles away.
“What is your favorite cake, Caden? Or do you prefer pies? Or tarts?”
He had sampled a tart or two, but those were elegant courtesans trained in the art of pleasure. Not what Ella meant bytarts. “Lemon cake is a favorite.”
She laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I am not always sour,” he said, casting her an unexpectedly warm smile to prove it.
“Perhaps you will surprise me one day and actually be merry. I will not hold my breath on it happening anytime soon. What else do you like? I’ll bring you a treat from Mrs. Halsey’s tea shop tomorrow. You will not be disappointed. Oh, are you permitted?”
He nodded. “My innards are working fine. I am only suffering from a cracked skull and a few broken bones.”
“And you were shot in the leg.” She plunked herself back down in her chair. “Caden, I am so very sorry. The doctor only mentioned the leg to me. He wants you to walk a little and thought I should encourage you.”
“Not yet. Perhaps when my arm heals a little more. Right now, I am off balance and will fall if I dare stand up.”
“Your arm? Was it broken?”
“Just the wrist.” He drew back the sleeve of his nightshirt just enough to show her the binding. The bruise ran down his palm as well, but only the wrist hurt. His ribs hurt as well. Two of them were broken, but the others were merely bruised. He mentioned those, but only to stop her when she bent over him to examine him closer.
He did not want her touching his body.
Everything hurt, but this was not the main reason for keeping her away. He did not need to embarrass himself by responding with arousal to her touch.
