The Hope of Love - Meara Platt Page 0,20
“Let’s hope so. I’m already salivating at the thought.”
“But I do wish I could have worn my gown.” She glanced down at herself. “I’ll have to satisfy myself with setting a new style. Bedlam fashion, I shall call it. Old woolen robe, frayed nightgown, coarse woolen socks, and hair that looks like cats were brawling in it.”
“Irresistible,” he teased. “That cyclops bump on your head adds to the allure.”
He spent the rest of the afternoon reading Udolpho to her, apparently not doing a very good job of it. He’d barely gotten past chapter two before Felicity fell asleep. He closed the book and quietly left the room when she began to snore.
Even her snores were light and sweet.
Adam returned shortly afterward. “Did Felicity miss me?”
“Not in the least.” But he grinned at his friend. “What took you so long? I was about to send off a search party. What did the earl have to say?”
Adam laughed. “He didn’t get a word in edgewise. His wife and her friends had plenty to say. Felicity will have her Christmas goose. They have more in mind, if I know those three.”
Angus arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “What more?”
“In truth, I’m not sure. They wouldn’t tell me. I don’t think they’ve formalized any plans yet, but they will soon. Don’t breathe a word of this to Felicity. It’s meant to be a surprise.”
“I won’t say anything,” he assured, more out of cynicism than cooperation. He knew Poppy, Olivia, and Penelope meant well, but they had their hands full preparing for their own celebrations and for those of their staffs and the citizens of Wellesford. He expected they would visit Felicity after Christmas, perhaps once the servants returned from their own family celebrations.
“How are you holding up, Angus? You didn’t get any sleep last night and won’t be of much use to Felicity if you’re dead on your feet.”
“I’m fine.”
Adam shook his head. “You are stubborn, and that isn’t at all the same thing. Go home. Wash up. Rest a while. I’ll watch over her.”
“Leave you alone with her?”
“I’m the vicar. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust? Besides,” he said, frowning lightly, “you’re going to leave soon. So, don’t make yourself too indispensable to her if you’re going to abandon her once the week is out.”
His friend was right, but that didn’t stop him from being angry and unreasonably possessive. Yet, what right did he have? He’d be no better than Lady Plimpton if he took himself off and left her behind. He would come back for her; he’d make her that promise. But Felicity would never take him at his word. She had no reason to trust him.
Everyone had excuses at the ready for disappointing her, hiding the truth from her. She responded with such joy and gratitude for the smallest crumbs thrown her way. Truly, he couldn’t bear it. “I’m not going to leave her behind.”
“What?”
“If she’ll have me, I’ll marry her first and take her with me. I can put off my departure until after the new year. Perhaps longer. As long as it takes for her to heal.” He didn’t really have to leave immediately; it was nothing more than a plan. Plans could always be changed.
After all, he hadn’t been home in over a decade.
A few more days would not matter.
He would still be the new Duke of Appin whether he returned home tomorrow or in a year…or never.
He marched into Felicity’s bedchamber. He must have been stomping loud enough to wake her, for her eyes were open when he reached her side. “Oh, Angus.” She cast him the sweetest, hopeful smile. “I must have drifted off to sleep again. I’m so sorry. I love the sound of your voice, it’s so soothingly deep and resonant.”
“Felicity, there’s something…” Her eyes were wide, and her gaze was more loving and gentle than he deserved.
“What is it, Angus?”
“Something I’ve been wanting to do the moment I set eyes on you.” He lifted her into his arms with exquisite care and then bent his head to hers, kissing her on the mouth. He kissed her deeply, keeping his lips planted on her soft, plump lips. While he had to be gentle because of her injuries, he hoped to convey the depth and intensity of his love.
He ought to have drawn away instead of prolonging the kiss.
But he wanted her to understand that he was not going to draw away from her ever again.
His tongue teased along the seam of her