Page 144 of The Scandal You Started
She rotated away from Dominic, then paused, and faced him again. “You can’t tell Erin or Kelly I did this. Or George or Benedict, either. They’ll never let me live it down.”
Beaming, he gave a single, gentlemanly nod. “Then it shall remain our secret.”
Pleased, she twirled and eyed the distance to the other end of the corridor.
Then she ran. Or jogged, rather.
Like the protagonist of a period drama. A fanciful girl without the big puffy dress. Exactly the way Erin had always described she wanted to do with a dreamy sigh.
It was fun, but maybe because it was so unlike Rayna, it made her feel silly too. So she stopped halfway and circled back around to Dominic. And a giddy flutter travelled up her belly.
A wide, lovestruck grin softened and crinkled his rugged face, the silver light from the large windows turning his irises bright and translucent. The fitted cut of his tailcoat and waistcoat made it look as if it’d been spray-painted on him. But it didn’t look uncomfortably tight. It dressed his big frame elegantly, and his cravat was still as perfect as it had been hours ago.
He was gorgeous. Powerful. Wonderful. Magnificent.
He was hers.
Her time travelling marquess, who could pull off a T-shirt and a neckcloth like he’d been born to wear both.
She wanted him in both. There was no either-or about it.
Her chest expanded, warm and fuzzy, on that sure thought. She straightened with it, arching a playfully sassy brow. “Well,” she said. “Aren’t you coming…Lord Norland?”
How it was possible for his grin to grow further, she didn’t know, but it did. It deepened, and her mind snapped a picture, needing to hold on to the memory of its beauty.
Then he was coming towards her, and she spun with a bubbling chuckle, loving the clack of his shoes following after her.
Rayna whipped around the corner and turned just in time to see Dominic come skidding after her. His brows flew to his hairline when he didn’t stop, arms flailing to keep himself from slipping over. He hinged forward at the waist, and she caught him around the wrists, holding him still.
There was a second where she swore she could hear both of their heartbeats as they stared at each other wide-eyed. A single laugh broke out of her, and a husky reply fell from him. Then all at once, quiet laughter shook their bodies as they huddled close.
He scooped her into his arms, her shoes dangling from one set of fingers. She cupped his shadowed cheeks in her gloved hands, and they melted into an endless string of kisses.
“This is my favourite spot in the museum,” Rayna told Dominic sometime later when they were sitting on a black cushioned bench in the middle of a dark, square room.
His grunt shook through the arm pressed to hers, and one puzzled brow rose. “Of all the rooms filled with brilliant tapestries, silverware, and marble statues, your favourite is the one with the morbid painting of death and suffering?”
“Yes,” she said with a playfully sharp nod. “Because historywasmorbidly full of death and suffering, especially for women. And I feel like a lot of the time people forget that side of it.”
She glanced between the four massive paintings hanging on each wall, faintly illuminated by the spotlights dotted around each gold-painted border. “And this room…it captures more than morbid suffering. It shows you almost the entire essence of one period in history, and it’s probably the only room in the museum that captures the good and the bad so powerfully.”
She gestured to the painting in front of them. “The suffering and disease.” She gazed across her left shoulder. “The rich, romanticised side of wooing and promenades, and big dresses and houses. The one behind us shows the ruling and conflicts of the nobility.” She pointed past Dominic. “And that one gives you a glimpse into everyday life for the average folk.”
Gripping the edge of the bench, she smiled in marvel. “This room is thought-provoking, even if we’re not sure the people in the paintings actually experienced what they’re depicted doing. It still makes you face the reality of what the early seventh century was like. That it wasn’t just the pretty or interestingparts museums usually prefer showing. It was bleak and painful too.”
Rayna watched Dominic look around the room, trying to imagine how he saw it. What truths he spotted in the paintings.
“When you explain it so,” he uttered thoughtfully, “I suppose I can understand why you are fond of this room. It rather boldly and accurately portrays how different life was for so many.”
“It does,” she agreed. “And I love it. I love the true history they show together.”
His gaze settled on her, and a slow smile lifted his mouth. “Your brain works in a wonderfully peculiar way, my love. I doubt I would have ever come to the same conclusion, and it makes me wonder if I’ll ever be able to keep up with your thinking.” He bent into her. “You will not ever bore of the fact I am not as gifted in such matters, will you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why would I get bored just because you don’t think about history the way I do? Especially considering you’re not even actually interested in it.” She pressed into his arm with a quirk of her brows. “The one who should be worried about getting bored is you, considering I’m talking about things you’ve lived that I’ve only studied.”
He shook his head. “I could never tire of listening to you talk about something that lights up your eyes with such unbridled excitement.”
Her cheeks warmed, and she raised her chin, letting him plant a long-second kiss to her lips.
