Page 73 of Not his Marchioness
They smiled at one another, before she added, “I do apologize about the scene earlier at the tea party. I did not know what came over me.”
He nodded. “I do not hold a grudge, Charlotte. Things come over me all the time, and then I curse them afterward.”
They looked at one another, and a comfortable warmth settled between them. She noticed how his hand was close to hers. She would have to move her hand only a fraction to place it on his, to feel his skin.
But did he want her to? How did she want him to react?
Before she could make a decision, he got up and walked to the window. “Snow, at last.”
“It can’t be,” she said. “It was too warm.”
She stepped up to the window, and indeed, snowflakes were slowly falling to the ground. It was early December now, and she had given up hope for a cold, white winter.
“I do not understand. We had a tea party outdoors earlier.”
“The temperature can be volatile,” Rhys explained.
Then, he suddenly grabbed her wrist and raised her hand. She gasped as he pressed it against the window.
“You feel the cold?” he asked.
She shivered as the iciness raced through her arm. “Goodness, it is like a block of ice.”
“Yes. Not unusual for this time of year. I daresay we will see winter, after all. I love winter. The snow—it’s peaceful.”
“You enjoy feeling cold?” she asked.
“I do. I like sitting by the fire, bundling up, and walking in the snow. I like the crunch beneath my feet. And there is nothing better than walking back into the house after the cold has settled in your bones and warming up with hot chocolate.”
“Well, you would’ve hated Italy,” she drawled, and the two laughed almost in unison.
She turned to him and took his hand. He wrapped his arm around her, and they stood there for a moment. She tilted up her head so that they were looking directly at each other.
She was going to kiss him, and he was going to kiss her back, and then all of this would come to an end.
Would it be much more complicated afterward? Who knew? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it would clear everything up. Maybe everything would make sense.
Charlotte didn’t even care right now. She wanted nothing more than to kiss her husband.
Slowly, she rose on her tiptoes, leaning forward. She saw him lean toward her. When she closed her eyes, he suddenly stepped back, letting go of her hand.
“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I must try to sleep. I have… business in the morning with the Duke of Windsor.”
And then, just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone, leaving her standing there on her tiptoes like a fool.
CHAPTER 28
Rhys rushed down the hall, chiding himself inwardly. How had he let her get so close?
He had never told anyone about his dreams before—his vision of going to Italy, seeing Venice and Rome—things he had kept to himself. Gideon knew, but he was the only one.
He had abandoned those dreams long ago, the moment his brother had died and he had become the heir. And then, after his entire family was gone, there had been no reason to think of foolish things such as wishes and dreams.
But it had burst out of him this evening. Quite unexpectedly. As it so often did when he was near Charlotte.
He couldn’t deny it any longer. He loved her. He truly did.
But he also knew that he couldn’t allow himself to. She had to go, or he had to go—one or the other. They couldn’t stay together.He knew that if she stayed, he wouldn’t be able to control his feelings for much longer.
