Autumn's Wild Heart (Seasons #4) - Laura Landon Page 0,18

without too much of a struggle. Perhaps he could give her a child soon and much of this pretense would be over.

Perhaps…

Chapter 6

Nella looked out onto the beautiful area she’d discovered on one of her daily walks. It had been three weeks since she’d become Lady Danvers, and every day she and her husband settled into a more relaxed routine.

They rose every morning, breakfasted together, then James retired to his study to work on the estate accounts and Nella met with Mrs. Pendleton and Cook to go over the day’s menu. After that, Nella was free to do whatever she liked.

Today she’d taken her art supplies and walked to a spot she’d discovered last week. She sat by the trickling stream and put down on canvas the lush landscape before her. She wanted to get the varieties of flowers still in bloom onto the canvas before the autumn coolness and shortness of days stole their vivid colors.

She’d always found peace and enjoyment in painting, using painting as an escape from everyday tedium. Most females used their free time getting ready for the endless rounds of parties and balls, or for visiting their numerous friends and acquaintances, but since Nella had never attended the number of events as did most females, she’d found other hobbies to keep herself occupied.

She swirled her paintbrush through a particular shade of green she liked especially well and applied it to her canvas. She’d been happily immersed in her art for more than an hour when a snap of a branch behind her brought her to halt her brushstroke and turn.

“It’s beautiful,” her husband said from over her left shoulder. “Beautiful.”

Nella smiled. “If you find it so, that is because of the location. It’s a beautiful spot.”

James stepped closer to her and bent down to study her painting more closely. “You truly have a gift, my lady.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I know my shortcomings. I am only an average artist.”

“As you consider yourself an average pianist.”

“Yes, only average.” Nella started putting her brushes and paints away. “How did you know I was here?”

Her husband reached for the basket in which she carried her supplies and opened the lid while Nella put the brushes and small jars of paints inside.

“If you must know, I went to the kitchen in search of a raspberry scone and was told in no uncertain terms that Cook had saved the last one for you.” He smiled. “It seems she tucked it into your kit.”

“My…my kit? I don’t think so.”

Oh dear lord, she prayed. Please don’t let there be crumbs on my lips.

“Not to worry, wife. Cook had just pulled pumpkin muffins from the oven. I had two and made her promise not to share a single one with you.”

Nella gulped, then cast her eyes upward in time to see his dramatic wink.

“You beast,” she moaned. “You wish me to starve?” Nella pasted a mischievous look on her face, but inside she was reeling. Her whole life she had been secretive about what she ate. And never, no never, would she have mentioned so very casually that she might eat a frosted pumpkin muffin. Or suggest that she would not welcome that most desirable state known as starvation.

Was she getting too comfortable with him? Had she best watch her tongue?

Nella folded her easel and carried it to a clump of trees. She returned for the small stool she’d sat on while she painted and hid both items in the folds of a huge trunk where she knew she could find them. She was very conscious of him watching her as she secured a canvas cover over the lot.

“I hope you don’t mind that I don’t carry everything back each time. It’s just easier to store my things here so they’re handy when I come back.”

“Not at all,” her husband said with a smile. “That’s very wise of you.” He looked around the area then back at her. “Are you ready to return to the house?”

“Yes,” she answered, and he picked up the basket with one hand and held out his other arm for her to take.

Nella looped her arm through his elbow and they walked toward home.

The feel of his muscled strength beneath her hand sent strange emotions tumbling through her. It was a similar feeling she experienced every night when he came to her bed—the heat that radiated from him, the strength he exhibited when he drew her close.

At first she hadn’t been brave enough to touch him, but