Page 164 of Rogue of My Heart

“And why not?” he countered. “Do you think I’m incapable of romance?”

“Of course not. I?—”

But instead of waiting for her to finish, Michael’s brown eyes held hers as he recited; “O my Luve’s like a red, red rose that’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve’s like the melodie that’s sweetly play’d in tune: As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, so deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear, till a’ the seas gang dry. ”

Albina was so stunned that couldn’t even reply for a moment. When she did, her voice was little more than a whisper. “That was beautiful.”

“Yes, well.” He grinned crookedly, as if suddenly embarrassed.

“Robert Burns had quite a way with words.”

She nodded, recalling the name of the popular Scottish poet. The Bard of Ayrshire’s works had been recited all across London, an influx of Romanticism taking over the salons and ballrooms. But never before had

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she heard the poet’s words recited with such poignancy. The way Chael spoke, with true feeling — it touched her heart.

Could it be that he still loved her?

He abruptly rose to his feet. “I suppose you’d like some time alone.”

Before he could depart, she dared herself to ask, “I was going to go into the village tomorrow. Would you care to accompany me?”

He hesitated. “If you wish it.”

“I do.”

He must have read the sincerity in her gaze, for he said, “Very well.”

He inclined his head. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Albina couldn’t keep a smile from blossoming on her face when he left. She felt she’d gained a victory this afternoon, however small.

Michael sat staring at the estate ledger in his study as if it held the secrets to the universe, or could at least give him a glimpse into his wife’s mind.

Yesterday had been confusing to say the least. First, Albina had apologized for her outburst about the conservatory, which had surprised him. He thought she might have held on to her anger a bit longer. Because she didn’t, it gave him cause to hope.

At least, that was the only thing he could say to justify the fact he’d been spouting sonnets like some green lad. He still rolled his eyes about that one, and yet he’d meant every single word. No matter how all of this might play out with his wife, he would love her until the day he died.

Dinner had also been a little easier, less stilted than the first night.

They’d actually had a smooth conversation, but perhaps that was because they’d kept the subject on neutral ground and discussed their children.

Either way, it had been rather pleasant and when they’d finally parted ways, he had been looking forward to their trip into Yarmouth.

But as a new day dawned, so did the reservations that came with it.

He might have had one good day with Albina, but he was afraid that sparkle of excitement would soon fade from her gaze, that the enchantment of being back in the country would pale all too quickly when compared to her life back in the city.

He wanted to win Albina back at all costs, only not at the expense of her happiness.

A light knock came at the study door and Michael glanced up to see Jeffries standing in the frame. Michael gestured him inside as he set his

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glasses on the ledger before him. It wasn’t as if he was getting much work done at this point anyway.