Page 9 of A Second Chance for Carys
“Rust, I’m guessing?” He sounded just as breathless.
“Yes.”
Damn it all, he should definitely move. It was not like that day last summer when they had happened to land one on top of the other. This time it was not dark, everyone could seethem, and the touching was deliberate. Instead of doing what he should, he got lost in Carys’ eyes, two blue shimmering pools capable of drowning an unsuspecting man. Under his fingers he could feel her hand, so soft and small. Was she trembling? Or was it him? He could not be sure.
But something was happening.
“Ah James, there you are.” Matthew’s voice, calling from behind them, brought him back to the present. “I thought I’d seen your horse by the stable.”
James lifted his hand from Carys’ as unobtrusively as he could and turned to face him. With luck, he wouldn’t have seen anything suspicious, just two people fussing over a dog.
“Yes. I just arrived.”
Matthew crossed his arms over his chest, not looking best pleased. “It’s been eight months. You could have sent word of your impending return, you know.”
“I know. I didn’t.”
This blunt, uninformative answer elicited a snort. “Evidently. Come, you must be thirsty, and Branwen will be glad to see you. We’ve just finished eating, but I can ask for some food to be brought to you.”
He nodded to Carys as well, and all three of them made their way to the solar. Branwen, who’d been writing a letter by the window, stood up at their entrance, a smile lighting her face.
“Look who I found in the bailey, Raven.” At first, James had been surprised by the unusual nickname Matthew used for his wife but then he had told him that her name, Branwen, meant beautiful or white raven.
“James.” She looked so pleased to see him, his heart gave a little jolt. It was almost as if he were more than the castle steward in her eyes. The thought moved him, because to him she was more than the mistress of the place as well. Brief as their acquaintance had been, she was the daughter-in-law he’dnever thought to have. “Welcome back. I thought I heard a horse trot in earlier. But then nothing happened so I thought I was mistaken.”
“You were not, my lady.” He bowed to her. “I trust you’re doing well?”
“Very well, thank you.” She glanced at her husband, who automatically wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her closer to him. These two were still madly in love, he was glad to see.
“So tell us. How is your sister-in-law doing?” Matthew asked, while they all sat down.
“She’ll be fine.”
Both Matthew and Branwen arched their brow at this terse answer but James had no wish to discuss Margaret, now or ever. His stay under her roof had been an uncomfortable one. He had been unable to rid himself of the impression that she wanted more from him than mere comfort. The number of times she had alluded to the fact that they were now both widowed and alone had been far too high.
If truth be told, the whole affair had been a disaster.
He had meant to be gone a month, two at the most. In the end, he’d spent the best part of a year away from Sheridan Manor. First, he’d had to console Margaret, who had clung to him more desperately than he had anticipated in her grief. It had taken weeks to restore her to a semblance of sanity. Then, when he’d thought he could finally leave, he had been roped in the rebuilding her son Henry’s barn. That had taken a while, as the villagers had not exactly been forthcoming with their help. James had the feeling that the man wasn’t well-liked and it had not taken him long to see why. The lad was underhanded, lazy and incapable of keeping his hands to himself when in the presence of women.
Nevertheless, James had helped, for the sake of Henry’s newly wedded wife. The poor woman, who was with child, deserved to have her supply of hay and grain kept dry in the winter. Life with a man like her husband would be hard enough. Once the work had been completed, he had gone to his parents, as planned, and found them both abed with a fever. He had nursed them back to health, which, given their age, had been a rather lengthy process. While he was there, he’d made sure to put everything in order for them, cutting a supply of wood that would see them through to spring.
At long last, he’d started his travel back to Sheridan Manor, stopping at Margaret’s cottage for the night, as promised. In the morning, he’d been forced to deal with yet another complication. A severe chill he’d been unable to shake off had kept him in bed. To his intense surprise and annoyance, James had been incapacitated for over three weeks.
The unexpected delay had taken its toll on his mood. Then, as if all that had not been enough, snow had made his travel back home slower than he would have liked.
“I’m glad to be back,” he concluded, putting an end to that discussion. He simply wanted to put the whole episode behind him. “I confess that I regretted not being at Sheridan Manor to celebrate Christmas.”
“I imagine you would have felt rather lonely.”
“I did. All the people I care about are here.”
As he spoke he glanced over at Carys, who had settled herself in a corner of the room, and was working on embroidering a shift. It looked to be exquisite work, an utter extravagance for a garment destined to be hidden from view. James knew of few people who would be willing to lavish such effort on something no one would ever see. Too many of his acquaintances did things because they wanted to impress others. Carys, on the contrary,was only trying to please herself, and surround herself with beautiful things.
Was the shift she was wearing right now as lavishly decorated? One way of getting an answer would be to lift her skirt, he supposed, and examine the hem. How low did the decoration he could see peeking above the bodice of her blue gown go? Was the whole of her shift covered in leaves and flowers? Dare he undress her to find out?
He shook his head and bit into the pie Matthew had asked a servant to bring him. What was wrong with him? He’d barely been back a moment, and he was already thinking about Carys in inappropriate terms.
“Have I missed something here?” he asked once his composure had been restored. Thank God they were sitting down and no one had noticed the bulge in his hose.
