Nicholas laughed, the sound filling the empty road around them. ‘It’s a small seat, Annorah, where do you propose I put my leg? Besides, I don’t think it’s an unpleasant sensation, merely a new one.’ One she feared she could get used to, like breakfast plates and just as easily.
Everything was easy with him. He hadn’t even been here a day and already he’d insinuated himself into the routine of her life. He’d done it so well, in fact, that there was an undeniable sense of rightness in having him beside her, almost as if they’d known each other for far longer.
‘It’s all right to like me, you know.’ Nicholas slid her a sidelong glance, his intuition catching her off guard with its accuracy. ‘It would be better if you did, actually.’
‘How did you know that’s what I was thinking? Do you read minds?’
‘I read bodies and lifestyles. You’ve been independent for a long time, too independent if you want my opinion. You aren’t used to having people look out for you.’
‘You’re wrong there. I have servants.’
‘It’s not the same. I mean someone who looks out for you voluntarily, without being asked.’
‘What does that have to do with liking you?’ Annorah shifted on the seat, wishing there was some way to put distance between herself and this interview.
‘Everything. Your independence has made you cautious of others.’ He guided the horse around a sunken spot in the road.
‘Stop thinking of me as another hired servant and start letting yourself like me, Annorah. There’s no harm in it.’
He might be right but it didn’t stop her from feeling defensive. ‘You are not my friend.’ She shot him a look to see how he’d take the pronouncement.
‘No, I’m not. I’m much, much better.’
‘I can trust my friends,’ Annorah said staunchly.
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Really? Then answer me this. Why have you been alone so long?’
Annorah fixed her eyes on the road. She was not going to answer that out loud. Because people hurt people. Intentionally or unintentionally, the result was still the same and she simply couldn’t go through it again. What her aunt and a long string of suitors had done to her for the sake of money was unforgivable.
‘We all have the lives we want, Annorah. Nothing will change that until we do,’ he said softly.
Nothing except calendars and legally binding documents. It was on the tip of her tongue to challenge that statement. No matter what she did, everything was going to change in a matter of weeks and she still hadn’t decided what to do. Annorah pushed the thought away with a hard mental shove. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t think about that while he was here. This was her last escape from reality. Her obligations weren’t supposed to intrude during these last days.
The cry of a hawk overhead broke the silence. Nicholas bumped her shoulder with his and pointed to the cloudless sky, impressed with the sudden intruder. ‘We don’t see many of them in London.’
Annorah looked up. ‘They live in the hills. There’s a whole family of them that have been here since I can remember.’ She smiled. ‘When I was little, we used to pretend to be hawks. We used to pretend we could fly.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘That’s silly, isn’t it?’
‘Not really. I had a kite when I was younger. I used to fly it and wish for the same thing.’ He smiled back at her, taking his eyes from the road long enough to meet her gaze, letting the sweetness of a childhood memory remembered pass between them.
‘I can hardly picture you as a little boy.’ It was difficult to think of this perfect man as a rambunctious scamp, running about the countryside in short trousers flying a kite.
‘Why not? I was adorable.’ He pretended mock hurt.
She gave a slight shake of her head. ‘It’s just that you’re so well put together; your clothes, your manners, you seem to always know what to do and what to say. I can’t imagine you not always having been this way.’
Nicholas laughed. ‘My mother wouldn’t describe me that way. I assure you, I had my share of scraped knees and less-than-pristine moments.’ He winked and said with exaggerated seriousness, ‘I had a mother, too, just think of it.’
* * *
The conversation had become easier after that. They talked of the plants they passed, the wildflowers that grew along the side of the road, the fields and the crops, until he turned off and brought the gig up beside the wide grey ribbon of river to a place where it pooled into a swimming hole beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
‘I haven’t been here in ages.’ She looked down at him, instantly suspicious as he came over to her side of the gig. ‘How did you know about this place?’
Nicholas shrugged and swung her down, letting his hands linger at her waist, his grip strong and confident as he held her. ‘I asked around. Your master of horse said this was a good spot for a picnic.’ Nicholas moved to the back of the gig and began to unpack, revealing at last what he’d stowed away. ‘I hear it’s a good place to fish.’
Fishing poles! Good heavens, she hadn’t seen the fishing poles for years, not since her grandfather had passed away actually. She hadn’t even been sure the poles were still around. Part of her assumed they’d simply found their way into other hands—perhaps a groom or two who’d gone fishing on a day off and had kept them, or perhaps some boys in the village had borrowed them. But here they were, looking as able as ever. He held out a pole. ‘Are you game?’
Annorah shot a quick glance at his boots, noting their high polish and expense. Water would ruin them. ‘You have to go in the water to fish.’
Nicholas gave her a wink. ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret. I plan on taking them off. How about you? I don’t think those half-boots will fare any better.’ Nicholas sat down on a big boulder by the river and tugged at his boots. He tossed them aside. ‘Here’s another secret. I plan to take off a lot more than my boots.’
Dear lord, he meant it. Annorah’s mouth went dry as he pushed up his trousers and began rolling off his socks, revealing well-muscled calves. It was ridiculous to be aroused by a man’s legs, but she rather doubted most men had legs like his; so perfectly turned with a sculpted bulge of muscle and tanned, too, not a pasty white. It suggested extraordinarily good health. Here was a man who knew how to take care of himself, whose body was not padded and moulded into a false representation of its true physique. There was no artifice here.
No, absolutely none, she affirmed a moment later. Off came his jacket, just to reinforce the point. The thin linen of his shirt hugged the breadth of his shoulders and tapered into the waistband of his trousers, calling attention to the trim line of his hips.
‘Well? Stop dawdling, Annorah.’ Nicholas stepped into the river with his pole. ‘We don’t eat until we fish.’
Right, just as soon as I get my jaw shut. She was being ridiculous.
He tossed a fishing pole in her direction. ‘Unless you’re too scared?’
That
