Evie ran a gloved finger over the tree’s bark, chipping away a small piece. “It is my intention not to go to London this Season.”
“Not to go to London?” Was her family planning to bypass the Season this year? No, that couldn’t be—Benedict had heard them mention the trip several times since their arrival. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. What exactly is your intention, then?”
She didn’t say anything at first but just looked up at him with those huge blue eyes. He had the distinct impression she was appraising him and his trustworthiness. He found himself standing a little straighter beneath her scrutiny. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I have convinced my father to allow me to stay at the Hall this Season, so I may avoid the tedious posturing of the marriage mart altogether. Now I’ve only to convince my mother to agree to my plans, and I will be free to do the work I love. In the meantime, I cannot give her any reason to become upset with me.”
Benedict stood there slack-jawed as the implications of her statement sank in. Shock did not begin to describe the way he felt. She was giving up on finding a husband? Did she plan to bury herself in the stables, never to love and be loved? “Your father agreed to this? Accolades to you and your exceptional powers of persuasion, my lady. You must be very pleased.”
He clenched his teeth at the sarcastic tone of his voice. He should have kept his damned mouth shut—it was none of his business, after all.
Some of the joy faded from her eyes, replaced by something akin to wariness. “Exceedingly. It is not everyday, sir, that one rises above the expectations of others and accomplishes that which has previously seemed impossible.”
She was speaking nonsense. She was the most passionate, entertaining, intelligent woman he knew, and she wanted to cut herself off from the world like some dried-up old spinster? She wasn’t giving herself a chance. “I agree. Of course, one must ask oneself, did one rise above, or fall below?”
She gasped and backed up a step. “What a ridiculous thing to say, Mr. Benedict! You don’t know anything about me, and you presume to make such a statement? What does it even matter to you?”
Oh, how wrong she was. He did know her. He knew her well enough to know that she deserved to find happiness in love. She was voluntarily shortchanging her future by closing herself off from the possibility. He no longer had the luxury of such a choice. His prospects had been destroyed, no matter what happened when he left this place. Through no fault of his own, he would either spend the rest of his life as a shamed outcast, or burdened by the knowledge that he had betrayed his own moral code for the good of others. Either way, he would never subject a woman to his fate, and therefore marriage would never be in the cards. And here she was, the world at her feet, and she was turning her back on it.
The little fool.
He ground his teeth together to keep from saying what he really felt. Taking a long breath, Benedict inclined his head in deference to her. “It doesn’t. I just hope you have thought this all through.”
She crossed her arms, her azure eyes cooling considerably. “You know, I was just beginning to like you. Clearly my ability to judge one’s character is slipping. Thank you for letting me see your true nature in a timely manner.”
“If showing my true nature means that I present the voice of reason, then you are more than welcome, my lady.”
She screwed up her face as if she smelled something rotten. “Voice of reason? You must be delusional.”
“Delusional, correct,” he said, pantomiming the up-and-down motion of a scale. “It’s all a matter of interpretation, I suppose.”
“What is there to interpret? You are presumptuous enough to assume I don’t know my own mind. Why? Is it because I am a mere woman?”
“I never said—”
“You might as well have,” she exclaimed, color staining her cheeks. “You don’t know me well enough to have come about your conclusions any other way. Therefore, you must think that because I’m a female, I—”
“It’s because you have so much to offer!”
They both froze.
Benedict looked even more surprised than Evie felt. With a muttered curse, he dragged his hat from his head and raked a hand through his hair. “Forget I ever said anything. You may do as you please, and I shall keep my delusional opinions to myself.”
Evie stood there blinking, utterly mute. How could she ever forget he had said such a thing? Pleasure at his praise raced through her body, warming her more effectively than even the brightest sun. “You think I have a lot to offer?”
He blushed—actually blushed—and rubbed a hand over his mouth in agitation. He gave a quick, jerky nod. “Yes, of course. Richard has always spoken so highly of you. And with all of the ingrates procreating within the ton, they could use as much fresh blood as they can get.”
She gave a quick snort of laughter before slapping a hand to her mouth. “I cannot believe you just said that.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Of course I do. I simply can’t believe you verbalized it.”
They grinned at each other, the tension from before melting away. For a moment, neither one of them spoke; then Benedict cleared his throat and gestured for them to carry on. “Shall we continue, or would you like to head back?”
“Let’s keep going. The day is young yet.” Her heart felt oddly buoyed, like a cork bobbing in a lake. It was nice, walking quietly beside him. With nothing but the sound of their boots on the dirt path and the occasional chirping bird, it was very peaceful. It felt normal, as if they had been together like this before, enjoying simply being with each other. “Thank you for saying that,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the path in front of them.
“What?”
“That I have a lot to offer. I do realize I am not the ideal example of femininity.”
“Thank God for that. Do you really want to be the ton’s ideal anything?”
Evie grinned. Now he was catching on. “Not in the least. I may be in the minority, but I am perfectly happy just the way I am. However,” she said wryly, glancing up to meet his gaze, “my unconventional nature does have a way of getting me in trouble. For example, when I unintentionally call a perfect stranger a nitwit.”
Benedict chuckled, his brown eyes alight with mirth. “I’ll admit—that was a new experience for me.”
With her attention wholly on him, she didn’t see the rock in front of her until she stumbled over it. His hand shot out to steady her, and she gasped at the sudden contact. Their eyes met briefly, and she smiled before looking down to watch the path.
Benedict didn’t drop his hand. Instead, he readjusted his grip so that he supported her elbow in the palm of his hand. She swallowed the urge to giggle. They were both adults. If he wanted to offer her a guiding hand, it was perfectly acceptable to do so. It was no one’s business but her own if her whole body was positively humming with awareness of the man at her side.
“So you truly are happy?” His voice was low and smooth as he spoke. “I mean, there is nothing more you want from life?”
Her muddled brain struggled to think past the tingle of his hand at her elbow. “At the moment, I enjoy my life exactly as it is.” It was absolutely true. She could be with him like this all day and be perfectly content.
The path narrowed, and they were forced to move a little closer to each other. His spicy cologne blended beautifully with the mossy, earthy scents wrapping around them.
He dipped his head, lifting a single brow. “Exactly as it is?”
She slowed to a stop, and he followed suit, turning so they were face-to-face. She knew at once they were closer than was proper, but neither of them moved. She licked her lips and nodded once. “Yes. Mostly.” Why was it so hard to think with his hand pressing against her, warm and sure?
The trees above them rattled in a light gust of wind, and sunny spots of light danced over the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders. “Mostly?” he said, the deep timbre of his voice nearly a caress. He tilted his head slightly, holding her gaze the whole time. “What is it that is missing from your life?”
Only yesterday, she would have said nothing. Nothing was missing from her life. So why did her long-dormant heart suddenly protest that answer? Longing, unlike anything she had felt in years, snaked within her. She opened her mouth to respond to him, but no words came to her lips. Finally, she simply shook her head. She couldn’t think about it now; she couldn’t answer him when she didn’t know the answer herself.
A few wisps of hair that had worked free of her pins during her ride lifted in the wind and fluttered across her cheeks. As naturally as if he’d done it a thousand times before, he reached out and touched the errant strands. His fingertips whispered along her check as he brushed the lock behind her ear. She held perfectly still as gooseflesh tightened the skin on the back of her neck and swept down her arms. It was all she could do not to turn her cheek into his palm.
“Nothing you would wish for?” He persisted, his words barely above a whisper.
Evie’s heart hammered within her chest as she breathed in his enticing scent. The new, delicious sensations coursing through her warmed her from the inside out. She looked up into his dark penetrating stare, losing herself in the velvet depths. Without even intending to, she swayed toward him, lifting her chin as she did. His nostrils flared slightly; he was not unaffected by her nearness. The knowledge weakened her knees even as it emboldened her. Instead of answering his question, she slowly shook her head, her eyes never leaving his.
He lowered his head just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath upon her cheek. The rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her own emotions, but she didn’t pull away—not when only inches separated their lips. Was this to be her first true kiss?
“Nothing at all?” he murmured, moving his hand from her elbow and skimming up the back of her arm.
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to his lips. “Nothing is perfect, Mr. Benedict.”
