His grey eyes soft as he gazed down at her, Jason laughed. Catching her hand, he leaned over her to raise it to his lips. “You always please me, Lenore, as you very well know. Stop fishing for compliments.”
Lenore’s smile was dazzling.
Jason ducked his head and planted a kiss on her offended rump. When she merely giggled, he raised a brow at her. “In fact, your progress in your study of certain of the wifely virtues can only be described as remarkable.”
Serenely content, Lenore turned to lie back on her pillows. “I had heard you were a very experienced teacher, Your Grace.”
Jason’s brows rose, his expression coolly superior, but Lenore detected the twinkle in his eyes. “I will admit that in certain disciplines I have been labelled a master. However, natural aptitude and overt enthusiasm are beyond my poor powers to call forth.” Cinching the tie of his robe, he swept her an elegant bow. “Those talents, my dear, are entirely your own.” With a rakish smile and one last lingering look, Jason strolled across the room towards his chamber. The long windows were open; a summer breeze played with the fine curtains. Outside, a bright day beckoned, yet he had to exert all his willpower to leave his wife’s bed.
Turning back at the door, he watched as she stretched languorously, like a sleek cat, sated and satisfied. They had been married more than a month yet her allure had not faded. He found her daily more fascinating, more tempting, their mutual passion more fulfilling. Which was not at all what he had expected.
“You have to admit, my dear, that this marriage of convenience has, in fact, been highly convenient for us both.” With a slight smile, which did not succeed in disguising the frown lurking in his eyes, Jason turned and left the room.
Lenore returned his light smile with one of her own, yet, when he had gone, her expression slowly sobered. A puzzled frown knitted her brows.
Clouds found the sun. Suddenly chilled, Lenore pulled the coverlet up around her shoulders. Had he intended his last comment as a warning that she should not let herself forget the basis of their marriage?
With a snort, she turned on her side to stare moodily at her nightdress, draped crazily over a chair where it had fallen the evening before. She was in no danger of forgetting their marriage—any part of it. She knew only too well that this was her time in paradise—that soon, this phase would end and he would leave to pursue his life as he had before. She had known how it would be from the start, when they had discussed his reason for marriage in the library at Lester Hall. Her role as he saw it was engraved in stone in her mind, but she had determined to focus on the present, to enjoy each moment as it came and lay up a store of memories, so that when the time came to bid him goodbye, she would be able to do it with dignity.
Grumpily, Lenore pushed aside the coverlet and, shrugging on her robe, rang for Trencher.
* * *
THE FIRST HINTS of gold had appeared in the green of the Home Wood on the day Jason and Lenore left its shady precincts to canter in companionable silence across the meadows to the forested ridge beyond.
Holding his grey hunter to a sedate pace, Jason slanted a protective glance at Lenore, beside him on a dainty roan mare. In the last weeks, she had ridden over much of the estate, accompanying him whenever he rode out, eager to learn all she could of the Abbey’s holdings. Yet she was a far from intrepid horsewoman, recently admitting, when he had twitted her over her liking for the slowest mount in his stables, that she preferred to drive herself in a gig. His eyes opened, he had, from then on, taken the gig whenever possible. When he had tentatively suggested he buy her a phaeton and pair, she had laughed at him, breathlessly disclaiming all wish to travel faster than the pace of a single, well-paced beast. Jason’s lips twitched. His wife, he had finally realised, liked to play safe. She did not take risks; she was happy as she was, content with who she was, and sought no additional thrills. She liked calmness, orderliness—a certain peace.
It had taken him weeks to realise that he had seriously disrupted her peace by uprooting her from Lester Hall. Ever after, he had sought to make it up to her, never entirely sure if he was succeeding, for there was still a side of her that remained hidden, elusive, a part of her he had yet to touch, to claim, to make his own.
The thought brought a frown to his eyes.
As they neared a hedge, Jason drew on his reins, turning his horse’s head. “This way,” he called and Lenore followed. He led her through a gate, then down a narrow lane, turning aside on to a bridle path cutting deep into the forest slope.
Slightly nervous, as ever, atop a horse, Lenore kept her placid mare’s nose as close as she dared to Jason’s gelding’s rump. Jason had explained that the lookout he wished to take her to could not be reached by a carriage. She hoped the view would be worth the journey.
As they wended their way upwards, between the boles of tall trees, the smell of damp earth and the tang of crushed greenery rose from beneath their horses’ hooves. And then they were in the open once more.
Lenore gasped and reined in. Before her, the Eversleigh valley lay unfurled, a patchwork of fields dotted with cottages, the Abbey planted like a grey sentinel in their midst. “How beautiful!” she breathed, her eyes feasting on the panorama.
Jason dismounted and came to lift her down. While he tethered the horses, Lenore looked her fill, then glanced about. The lookout was no more than a natural clearing on the side of the hill. A broad expanse of sun-warmed grass, protected from the winds by the trees about, provided a perfect picnic spot. A small stream bubbled and gurgled through rocks to one side, spreading to form a small pool before tumbling over the lip to disappear on its journey downhill.
It was too late in the day for a picnic, but Lenore saw no reason not to avail herself of the amenities. She sat down, then, feeling the sun strike through her riding jacket, took it off, folding it neatly before laying it down and stretching full-length, her head on the velvet pillow.
With a smile, Jason came up and stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow, a speculative light in his eyes.
Leno
re saw it. She struggled up on her elbows and squinted into the distance. “Having brought me here, my lord, you may now proceed to tell me what I am looking at.”
Jason laughed and obliged. For the next twenty minutes, prompted by her questions, he described the layout of his tenant farms and gave her a potted history of the families who held them.
When her questions ran out, they lapsed into silence, perfectly content, the afternoon golden about them.
Dulled by his deep satisfaction in the moment, Jason’s faculties slowly turned to focus on his contentment—at how odd it was that he should feel so very much at peace, as if he had gained his life’s ambition and was now content to lie here, beside his wife, and revel in life’s small pleasures.
His gaze dropped to Lenore, lying prone beside him, her eyes shut, a peaceful smile gently curving her lips.
Desire shook him—desire and so much more. A wealth and breadth of feeling for which he was entirely unprepared rose up and engulfed him.