“And now you must live the life of a hermit because you are ugly and crippled?” she asked.
He glared at her from his one eye. “It pleases you to make fun of me,” he said. “What woman would not recoil in disgust at an advance from me? Do you know why I have not been able to paint this afternoon? Because I have been sitting there wanting to kiss you, that’s why. Now, tell me that the idea does not repel you.”
She thought for a moment. “The idea does not repel me,” she said.
“Ah,” he said, “you are brave. Are you relying on the fact that I am a gentleman and will not put the matter to the test?”
She lifted a hand to trace lightly the line of his scar with one finger. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Not a light touch like that,” he said.
“Does this hurt?” She leaned forward and laid her lips against the scar. She was blushing hotly when she pulled back again.
“No.”
“Kiss me, then.” Her eyes were on his chin. “Put it to the test.”
“You do not have to be kind,” he said, his voice quiet with controlled fury. “You of all people.”
“Oh!” Jennifer scrambled to her feet and took a few steps away from the blanket. “Oh, how could you! Could you not see how much courage it took to ask to be kissed? I could die of mortification. I hate you, sir, and I hope no woman will ever have you. You deserve to live a solitary life. I have never in my life been so humiliated.”
“Jennifer!” His voice finally penetrated her embarrassment. There was a suggestion of laughter in it. “Come back here, please. Look, I cannot come and fetch you. I’m truly sorry. I was too busy feeling my own confusion to recognize your courage. Please sit down again.”
“I ought not,” she said warily, sitting back down nevertheless on one corner of the blanket and keeping her spine very straight. “I should walk back to the house.”
“Will you let me kiss you?” he asked. “I have been wanting to do so all afternoon. And long before this afternoon, if the truth were known.”
She could feel herself flush even more deeply as she wriggled closer to him on the blanket again and he put one arm up about her shoulders. The other hand came against her cheek, his thumb pushing up beneath her chin. She felt as if her cheeks were about to burst into flame.
“You are so pretty,” he said, “and so spirited. I wish I were quite whole for you, Jennifer.”
She was not given a chance to reply. His mouth was on hers, lightly exploring. And lifting away so that she could end the experiment right there if she wanted. But her arm was up about his neck by that time, and her mouth reaching for his again.
Somehow, during the next few minutes or hours they shifted position so that they were lying rather than sitting on the blanket. And somehow, during the same time span Jennifer lost her wits. The only thing she could think of to say when she was finally released was a rather meaningless “Oh!”
He lay down beside her, one arm beneath his head. “Thank you,” he said, finding her hand with his. “You are a very kind lady despite the frequently barbed tongue. You will be looking forward to the end of your mourning period and to finding a handsome husband.”
“One with two legs and two arms and two eyes,” she said. “Oh, yes, sir, my head is filled with nothing else.”
“Why is your tone sarcastic?” he asked.
“Strangely,” she said, “at the moment you spoke, I was thinking of a one-legged, one-eyed man who is not particularly handsome.”
There was a pause.
“I have nothing to offer you, Jennifer,” he said.
“No, of course not,” she said. “One has only to look at you to see that you are no more than half a man.”
“You cannot want me.”
Jennifer said nothing. She sat up on the blanket and wrapped her arms about her knees again.
“When my leg-or what is left of it-has healed properly,” he said, “I am going to see about having an artificial limb. Perhaps I will never get used to it. And then again, perhaps I will. But I think I am going to try.”
She still said nothing.
“Jennifer.” He sat up beside her with some difficulty and rubbed his hip again. “Perhaps by next summer I will be in better health. My scars will have faded a little. I will have sorted things out with my family. Your mourning will be over. I could come up to London then.”
She did not answer him.
“Would you want me to?” he asked hesitantly.
She shrugged. “Would you?”
“I asked first,” he said. “But no matter. Yes, I would.” He rested a hand against the back of her neck. “I have liked you since Brussels. Except that there you were dazzled by Eden and I was infatuated with Madeline. And we have not had much chance for anything since then except getting on each other’s nerves. But I find that I can say good-bye to everyone in this house tomorrow except you. I like all the others and will miss them. I will ache for you.”
“I wish you weren’t going,” she said.
“So do I.” He squeezed the sides of her neck. “But I think it is best. We are not quite ready for each other yet, Jennifer. I have to learn what kind of life it is that I will be living. I have to regain some of my strength-and I am talking not just about physical strength. And you too have to adjust to the changes in your life. It will be best to wait until next summer.”
“I suppose so,” she said. “I just wish it were not tomorrow. I wish there were a little more time.”
“There is a little more,” he said. “I don’t see the gig coming yet, do you?”
She shaded her eyes and looked toward the house. “No,” she said.
“Well, then,” he said, collapsing heavily back on the blanket and lifting his arms to her. “Come and kiss me again. And I will tell you that I love you, you little termagant. Shall I?”
“Yes, please,” she said, coming down across the upper part of his body and kissing his scarred cheek. “And I will tell you the same thing, Allan. You go first.”
“All right,” he said. “But the kiss before anything. I can tell you I love you in the gig going home if necessary. But I can’t kiss you there. Not without shocking the groom.”
He spread his hand over the back of her head and guided her mouth down onto his.
ELLEN WAS KNEELING on the grass of the lawn beside the house, holding on to Caroline’s hands as the child bounced on wobbly legs. The Countess of Amberley was standing beside them, watching her husband roll a ball to her shrieking son.
“I hope I have a little girl like you,” Ellen said to the child. “But then, perhaps I would be equally delighted with a son.”
“You think it matters,” the countess said, “until the baby is born and gives its first cry. I wanted Christopher to be a boy, of course, so that Edmund would have his heir. But I wanted Caroline to be a boy too as a companion for her brother. Yet I had to take only one look at her as the doctor told me I had a daughter, and I thought what a fool I had been to have thought I wanted a son. Now the next one can be what it pleases. I just hope it decides to arrive within the next year or so.”
“Perhaps it will be twins,” Ellen said, “and you will have one of each. There are some in the family, after all.”
“Then perhaps yours will be twins too,” the countess said with a laugh, and then grimaced and bit her lip and shook her head.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Ellen stood up, the baby in her arms. “The thought had crossed my mind too.”
“I don’t think I am usually quite so gauche,” Lady Amberley said. “I will have nightmares about that one.”
“Well, you need not,” Ellen said, laughing at her. “I am not at all ashamed of the fact that I am expecting Dominic’s child-or children. Let’s change the subject. Tell me more about your brother.”
“James?” The countess smiled. “He was by far the most important person in my life until I met Edmund. I had a very secluded and rather unhappy childhood and girlhood, I’m afraid. I am not complaining, by the way. The years of happiness I have known here have made up a thousandfold for every lonely moment. James was my idol. He could do absolutely nothing wrong in my eyes.” She laughed. “He still can’t, for that matter. Are you sure you wish me to pursue this line of conversation? You might become dreadfully bored after an hour or so.”