Something Old, Rebecca Connolly [ebook reader for laptop TXT] 📗

She bit her lip as she warred within herself for understanding and clarity, only to hear her husband hiss to himself across the way.

“And that is just as distracting, my dear.”

Her eyes widened, and she suddenly feared her heart might spring from her chest and begin dancing a jig on his knees. She released her lip at once, swallowing hard.

“Rather sensible, all things considered,” he remarked, smiling in a manner she had never seen. Something that blended satisfaction with interest, and it had an almost primal edge to it, raising bumps along every inch of her exposed skin as though she had a chill.

Yet she was not chilled. Not in the least.

Swallowing again, she forced herself to exhale, slowly and silently. “I shall… do my best,” she said, feeling as though she were thinking through mud and speaking even worse. At his curious tilt of the head, she hastily added, “To fidget without distraction. And not become irritated if you… if you should…”

“I’m quite accustomed to being distracted by you, Lily,” Thomas assured her, somehow completely unaffected by the growing tension in the carriage that threatened to choke her. “It’s been a constant state of mine for years, punctuated by moments of intensity when and where they happen.”

“You never said,” she whispered without thinking, her pulse somehow in her throat and ears now. “Not once have you told me…”

“I should have,” he insisted, his voice dipping low and reaching into her heart. “Every time, I should have. I was afraid.”

A faint rush of air passed her lips, tickling the suddenly sensitive skin. “Afraid? Why should you be afraid to tell me?”

He snorted a soft laugh. “To tell you that you are beautiful? That I’ve never seen your equal? That I struggle to look anywhere else when you are in the room? That it has been so ever since I saw you again at the pianoforte in Mary Hamilton’s home?” He shook his head very slowly. “After how I married you, I couldn’t venture to tell you anything. You deserved so much better. How could I confess to feeling what I did after hurting you so?”

“It would have helped,” she told him, feeling near to tears yet elated to hear every word, “to know that you felt any of this. It would have helped, Thomas.”

The emotion she saw in his expression ate at her, an almost broken bewilderment she instantly wanted to soothe.

“I didn’t know,” he murmured.

Lily lowered her chin, forcing a gentle smile. “You know now.”

He returned the smile, though it failed to erase the shadows. “And so do you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, the truth of the conversation sinking into her heart and mind. What would this mean for them? What could it change?

Where would they go?

The temptation to bite her lip had never been so strong, but knowing what she now knew, she could not do so without being reminded of Thomas’s confession.

A distraction, was she? She’d have to remember that.

They did not speak again until they reached Trevadden, though the pressure in Lily’s chest did not abate, nor did her temptation to look at him. Something had shifted between them in that ride, and she was half tempted to ask to return to Pendrizzick to see what might occur on that journey.

Her cheeks flamed yet again at the thought.

Thomas was suddenly stepping out of the carriage, reaching his hand back in for her. Thank heavens for the fading light that would keep her embarrassment from being obvious, she thought.

She let him help her down, forcing her racing heart to find some semblance of calm, though it would never fully settle now. Perhaps ever.

Smiling up at Thomas, she proceeded into the grand façade of Trevadden, its grand columns lending a more regal air to the already spectacular place. A line of liveried footmen stood inside, taking their cloaks and Thomas’s hat, while the one on the end indicated they could follow him farther inside.

“This place,” she breathed, tugging on Thomas’s arm. “It is…”

“A masterpiece of architecture and style,” he finished for her, nodding in agreement. “Perhaps I should ask him to take a holiday somewhere so we might tour this house as well.”

Lily snickered, her glove coming up to cover her mouth for a moment. “Yes,” she finally managed once she had regained control. “Would you?”

“Certainly.” A corner of his mouth twitched, but somehow, he managed not to laugh. The look he gave her, however, was full of laughter.

Her heart fluttered at its sight.

They reached a vast drawing room, the walls the palest shade of green and enhanced by dark wooden beams exiting into the beams of the ceiling above their heads. There were perhaps ten people in the room, one of which was a tall, dark-haired man with rather splendid evening wear. Had they been in London, he would not have been out of place, yet Lily would hesitate to call him a dandy.

But only just.

He turned as they entered, his smile swift and sure, and he immediately made for them. “Granger! So pleased to have you here. Welcome to Trevadden.” He bowed politely, then extended a hand to shake before turning toward her. “This must your wife, sir.”

“Yes, indeed. Lily, may I present Lord Harrison Basset?” Thomas asked, stepping back just a touch.

Lord Basset bowed again, this time a bit farther. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Granger.”

“And I you, my lord,” Lily demurred with a polite curtsey. “Your home is extraordinary.”

“Thank you. You are both welcome at any time to come and poke about its corridors,” he told them congenially. “No notice needed, no invitation required. In fact, I should appreciate your opinion on the place, Mrs. Granger. My mother is forever insisting in her letters that I need a woman’s touch in it, and I fail to see that as a suitable excuse to find a wife. If you could be prevailed upon to advise me of any alterations you might deem appropriate, I would consider it