The Bride (The Wedding Series) - By Christine Dorsey Page 0,17

his pinched face. “I don’t understand. I thought you wished to wed me.”

“If I’ve given you that impression, please forgive me.”

His eyes narrowed and he reached out grabbing hold of the balustrade with both hands. Hunched forward, he stared out toward the sea for so long Eleanor was at a loss what to do. She would never have expected her refusal to affect him so. Tentatively she reached out and touched his sleeve.

“Sir Alfred, I don’t think—”

“That’s quite right, Miss Fiske. You don’t think.” He turned on her so quickly, Eleanor stepped back, her hand fluttering to her throat. “You have been hovering about me all summer. And your mother certainly led me to think—”

“My mother does not speak for me.”

“She has for as long as I’ve known you.”

Eleanor straightened to her full height, regardless that it made her nearly as tall as Sir Alfred. “I think you should go.”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, only stared at her, his jaw clenched. When he did speak his voice was cool. “It’s that Bonner, isn’t it?”

Eleanor held his gaze, refusing to answer.

“You were fine until he appeared. Now...”

Not even waiting to hear his impression of her now, Eleanor turned and reached for the gold doorknob. But before she could open the French door his hand clamped across her wrist.

“You will be sorry, Eleanor,” was all he said before opening the door himself and bowing her in.

But she wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. And tomorrow she would find a way to see John.

Seven

The young woman hurrying down the path toward him bore little resemblance to the Eleanor Fiske John met two weeks ago. She was smiling, a smile that lit up her face, and made John do the same. Her clear, blue-green eyes sparkled.

She was dressed differently, too. Her gown was a pale blue trimmed in lace. The lines accentuated her slim body, a fact John didn’t miss as he stepped from the shade of a pear tree.

Eleanor paused when she saw him and a lovely blush of pink crept over her cheeks. She met his stare, then quickly glanced away, only to look back and smile. “I was hoping you would come.”

John took another step toward her. “After receiving your message, nothing could have kept me away.”

“I hope you don’t think me too bold... I mean in sending you a note.”

In response John gave into his desire and took another step, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. She came willingly, with a shudder he could feel vibrate from her body to his. He held her a moment before lifting her chin with his finger. Her eyes glistened when she looked up.

“You are all right, aren’t you? No chills or ill effects from your dip in the Atlantic?”

“I’m fine.”

“I called yesterday but was told you were not receiving visitors.” He actually did a lot more than that, trying to see her. When the direct method failed, John tried to find Franklin Fiske at the Reading Room, only to learn that the older man left for New York earlier in the day. Cursing Franklin’s timing, John visited several of his new acquaintances trying to wrangle an invitation to Oakgate. As far as he could tell there was only one invited guest last night.

He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers for no other reason than he felt like it.

“I was so frightened,” she began and then turned from his embrace to walk along the rocks.

“Being swept overboard is a terrifying experience.”

“Not then.” Eleanor glanced around. “When my father came, and Sir Alfred.”

“Ah.” John nodded, then began following her as she climbed along the rocks. “That was terrifying, too.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I assure you, I’m not.” John took her elbow, helping her over a rock made slippery by the salt spray off the sea. He hoped... prayed Franklin didn’t suspect what happened in the fisherman’s shack. When they were off the rock and back on the path that led toward the beach John turned Eleanor to face him. “Did your father say anything to you?”

“No.” Eleanor took a deep breath. “And Sir Alfred is so busy basking in the glory of saving my life, he isn’t likely to say anything even if he suspected.”

“That’s good.”

“Good?” Eleanor raised her brow. “Did you hear what I said? My mother is telling everyone who will listen how Sir Alfred risked his own life to save mine and he’s doing nothing to deny it.”

“I didn’t jump in the ocean