The Hope of Love - Meara Platt Page 0,7
tea? I’ve just put the kettle on to boil.” Her hands went to her unbound hair. She hadn’t bothered to do it up in its usual prim bun, so it fell long and loose down her back, the ends curling about her hips. “Please do have a seat. Or browse among the bookshelves. I’ll only be a moment.”
She darted behind the curtain and returned less than a minute later with those long, silken strands a distant memory. She was once more the prim bookshop owner, her hair neatly tucked in a bun at the nape of her slender neck.
Well, she didn’t look prim. Just achingly soft and splendid. She couldn’t hide the beauty of her face or her perfect body which was covered from neck to toe by her woolen gown. It was of good quality merino wool that draped gently over her curves. The dark green fabric somehow highlighted the green of her eyes.
Was he mistaken, or did her eyes seem to sparkle?
“The snow has stopped for now,” he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “But I expect it will start up again soon. Are you still well stocked?” He glanced out the window toward the sky. “We’re due for another big snowfall today.”
She was looking at him, but startled as the kettle suddenly whistled. She left his side to run to the stove and remove the kettle from the heat. She poured a cup of tea for each of them and returned with them in hand. “Would you care for cream? Sugar?”
“No, Felicity. This is perfect.”
They sat at the corner table in the bookshop, drifting into an amiable silence. But it only lasted for a few moments before she began to fuss, obviously unsettled to be alone with him even though there was nothing improper about it.
She’d turned her sign to mark her shop as open. Anyone could have walked in on them and would have seen nothing but the owner and her customer having tea. Indeed, anyone could have peered in through the window and found them merely sitting at the table and chatting. “Make yourself comfortable, Angus. I’ll hang up your coat.”
He hadn’t taken it off yet. He hadn’t planned on staying beyond a quick greeting. But he was seated now, and the thought of leaving Felicity’s side was not at all pleasing to him.
He removed his coat and scarf, tossing them on the empty chair beside him and staying her hand when she was about to rise in order to hang them on the pegs beside the fireplace. “My coat and scarf are fine right here. How was your evening?”
“I’ve made good progress on my gown. You know, the one I plan to wear for the Christmas party. The style wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared it would be.”
“You worked on it last night?”
She nodded.
He eyed her casually, although there was nothing casual about the desire she ignited in him. “There can’t be much to do. You haven’t changed since the day you arrived here. How long has it been?”
“Too many years to count.” She winced. “Don’t remind me. I was young and hopeful back then.”
He chuckled. “And I had no gray hair.”
She rested her hands on the table, one on each side of her teacup. “One or two gray hairs don’t count. They make you look distinguished, that’s all. And don’t you dare say you’re getting old, because if you are, then I must be as well. You’re only a few years ahead of me. Six years, to be precise. I’m twenty-nine now.”
“Which makes me a young and hale thirty-five.” Lord, she was right. Where had the time gone?
Her smile suddenly faltered. “Oh, Angus. I thought I’d be married and have children by now.”
He leaned forward and placed a hand over hers. “You’ve had offers, Felicity. There will be others. Surely you know how beautiful you are.” Hell, he shouldn’t have said that. “Why did you turn those men down?”
She shook her head and moaned lightly. “I didn’t love them. They were nice men, I won’t deny it. But I never wanted to marry merely for the sake of convenience. Shouldn’t there be more?”
He squeezed her hand. “Yes, for someone like you.”
Her laughter sounded wistful. “Someone foolishly romantic?”
“There’s nothing foolish about holding out for love.” Had he been doing the same and simply not realized it? He’d always been in love with Felicity, but to marry her and have his family get their talons into her? He’d never wanted that. And