Page 29 of An Earl Like You (Games Earls Play #6)
“ I don’t recall this being quite so difficult last time.” Cass fumbled with the crumpled stem in his fingers. “How are you managing it?”
“It’s much easier for me.” Hattie took his hand and pressed hers against it, palm to palm. “See? My hands are much smaller than yours.”
“Hmm.” He caught her wrist and tumbled her backwards onto the picnic blanket they’d spread out under the beech tree, sending the pile of daisies in her lap scattering. “Shall I take a closer look?” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the tip of each of her fingers.
“We’ll never finish our daisy chains at this rate.
” But even as she scolded him, her hands stole around his neck, her fingers sinking into the thick mahogany locks of his hair.
The severe coup au vent he’d been wearing when they’d first met in London had given way to a chaos of loose waves, and she could never resist running her fingers through them.
He turned onto his side to face her, his lips curving in the smile that made her heart leap like a wild thing in her chest. It was Cass’s smile, the one she remembered from their first summer in Kent. The cold, aloof Earl of Windham’s smile hardly ever appeared on his lips anymore.
He caught one of her curls between his fingers and lifted it to his lips. “May I steal a kiss, Lady Harriet?”
She pretended to consider it. “I don’t know, my lord. Can you manage it without my brother seeing you? I could have sworn I saw him peering at us from his study window earlier.”
Johnathan had come quite a long way in the month since Cass had come to stay with them in Kent.
They’d even taken to sharing a glass of brandy in the evenings.
Goodness only knew what they found to talk about behind the closed door of Johnathan’s study.
Masculine things, presumably, but she frequently heard laughter coming from within, so she was content.
“That, my dearest Lady Harriet,” Cass said, cradling her cheek in his hand. “Is what the tree branches are for.”
“Clever of you.” She gazed up at him, her heart bursting with love in her chest as he lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue slipping out to tease her bottom lip.
She opened to him at once with a soft sigh, every inch of her skin leaping to attention under his wandering fingertips. He seemed to have been born with an innate understanding of her body, and with every week that passed it became more difficult to restrain themselves.
“Goodness,” she murmured breathlessly when at last Cass raised his head. “Two weeks seems ages away, does it not?”
“It’s an eternity.” Cass pressed a final quick, hard kiss on her lips. “Thank God for this beech tree, or I don’t know what we would have done.”
Their wedding was two weeks from today, and it couldn’t come quickly enough.
Margaret had returned to Kent from London only last week with a trunkful of Madame Céline’s latest creations, a pronounced Town polish and elegance that had eluded her in Kent, and an offer of marriage from Lord Pembroke.
She’d accepted his suit and was to become Lady Pembroke a few short weeks after Hattie became Lady Windham. The tiny chapel on the Melrose House grounds would see two weddings this year.
So many changes, all at once! It hardly seemed possible she and Margaret would both be wed by the end of the summer.
For Johnathan’s sake it was rather a blessing that Sarah hadn’t accepted any proposals.
She never said so outright, but Hattie had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t due to a lack of offers.
Sarah had written faithfully from Alice’s house party in Staffordshire, her every letter full of news and gossip.
As it turned out, Lord Hayward had made certain the ton learned the truth about Egerton’s brawl with Cass at Lady Dumfries’s ball, and Egerton had been obliged to make a hasty retreat to his country estate to escape the whirlwind of gossip that followed.
Lady Laetitia hadn’t fared much better. According to Sarah’s last letter, the gossips had also found out about Lady Laetitia’s part in the incident, and the rumors had been ugly enough that she’d ended her season without an offer, despite being this year’s belle.
They’d hear it all firsthand, soon enough. Sarah would return to Kent next week, in plenty of time to see Hattie walk down the aisle.
“Do you suppose your brother will allow me to kiss you once we’re married?” Cass grinned down at her. “Or should I expect him to toss me out a window when I attempt to follow you to our marital bedchamber?”
She twisted one of his curls around her finger. “Emmeline has promised me she won’t allow it.”
“That’s reassuring.” He flopped down beside her on his back, their hands clasped and his shoulder touching hers, and for some time they lay there quietly, watching the clouds skim across the patches of blue sky visible through the swaying branches above them.
Filtered sunlight spilled through the leaves, warming her face, and she closed her eyes, a contented sigh on her lips. How she’d miss Kent when they retired to Cass’s estate in Oxfordshire!
But he’d promised her they would come to Melrose House whenever she wished it. She would miss her brother and Emmeline dreadfully, but they were often in Oxfordshire visiting her Aunt Juliet and her Aunt Helena, so she would see them often.
A shadow moved over her, and something brushed the end of her nose.
She opened her eyes to find Cass leaning over her, tickling her nose with a daisy dangling between his fingers. “Have I told you how lovely you look today, my lady?”
“You have, my lord.” She tightened her fingers around his. “You tell me every day.”
“As I should.” His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her. “Because you’re lovely every day. The loveliest lady in all of England.”
The luckiest, as well. She was utterly smitten with her future husband, and why shouldn’t she be? He was the dearest, loveliest and most handsome gentleman in the world.
She closed her eyes again, the shadows of the branches painting pictures behind her eyelids. How many hours had she spent under this very tree as a child?
It must be dozens. Hundreds, even.
This tree, the meadow with its rippling grass and the lazy pond was the place where she was happiest. It had always been so, but she’d never been happier than she was at this moment, lying under the beech tree with Cass, her fingers curled around his hand.
He was her past and her future, together.
How had she ever gotten so lucky?
“You’re looking at me as if you want to kiss me, Lady Harriet.”
“I always want to kiss you, Lord Windham.” She reached up to brush her fingers across his lips. “Every moment of every hour, and every hour of every day.”
He trailed his finger from the bridge of her nose to her lips, parting them with the gentle pressure of his thumb.
“Your every wish, Hattie…” He leaned closer, close enough his warm breath ruffled the loose tendrils of hair at her temples. “Is my command.”