Chapter 13 #2
“Not all would agree with that opinion,” she countered.
“In truth, a lady cannot know what her circumstances will be until it is too late to undo them.” She was quite serious-minded about this.
“I would hope my brothers would terminate such an unfortunate alliance if it were to occur, but the law is on the side of the man. A woman becomes the property of her husband. That’s why I cannot understand my father’s eagerness to marry me off. ”
Her father confused Garrett as well. One day he seemed to be offering his daughter to Garrett, and the next he was pushing the girl into the Duke of Monfort’s damned arms. Perhaps the earl wished to keep all his…her options open.
“Your father cares for you. Perhaps that is why he imposes his will so strongly upon your marital prospects.”
Again, a long sigh. She did a great deal of that as of late. “I know. But…”
Understanding dawned. “You want a love match.”
This revelation gave him pause. Perhaps he ought to rethink his own designs upon her.
He could never give her what she wanted.
He found her desirable. He found her conversation pleasant, even entertaining, but he’d lived something of a debauched life until recently.
He was not certain he was even capable of romantic love—if it in fact existed.
“You also want passion,” he added, perhaps to strengthen his own cause. His eyes dropped to her lips. His provocative words changed the tenor of their conversation. Both were very aware of the kisses they had already shared. The passion he’d brought to a halt.
Her chin tipped up. She held his eyes boldly. “I do,” she affirmed. “Are the two mutually exclusive, or are they one and the same?” Oh, Lord, this girl had a lot to learn.
“Yes,” Garrett responded, “and no, not at all, in my experience anyway.”
“Trade me places. I wish to row.” She could be a demanding little wench.
“Please,” he corrected her with a stern look. He raised one eyebrow and added, “Please, my lord, would you do me the favor of trading seats so I may row?”
Natalie scowled. “Yes, that.”
Garrett did not budge. He merely continued looking at her expectantly.
“Oh, fine. Please, my lord, would you trade seats with me?”
Garrett laughed and moved to one side, careful to lean inward so as not to tip the boat.
Natalie edged around the opposite side, and they managed to exchange seats without mishap.
She confidently took the oars and began rowing.
She had obviously done this before, as she did not dig the oars into the water too deeply, but just slightly to skim the boat along.
He took the opportunity to lean back and relax.
She was strong for a girl. He decided the pink made her look about sixteen.
Her exertions, however, brought attention to certain attributes that were most definitely not sixteen.
His eyes fixed on a droplet of sweat that clung to the top curve of her breast. And then the material of her skirt slid upwards, revealing pink slippers and smooth silk stockings.
They had rowed to the back of the island. They were completely unobserved, utterly alone.
Garrett reached forward and grasped her ankle.
Natalie stopped rowing. Her face revealed uncertainty as to how she might respond to his boldness. He knew she resented him for calling a halt to their other…encounters. Even though it was for her own good as well as his.
His touching her now was an impulsive move. He’d simply had the urge to wrap his fingers around her leg, and the next thing he’d realized, he’d done just that.
“You, sir,” she said, “are impertinent.”
“My lord,” he corrected her again.
“That too.”
Garrett smiled. He could not remember a time when he’d last smiled this much. He leaned forward, sliding his hand to just below her knee. His fingers massaged her calf muscle lightly.
Natalie reached her foot forward. “So this”—she indicated his touch—“is mutually exclusive from love?”
Well.
That was effective.
Garrett released her and sat back on his seat. Did she want an answer?
He searched her expression.
Yes, she did.
“I believe it is.” He would not lie. “Unlike that love you told me about that controls a person and leaves them feeling guilty, passion can be exceptional on its own.” He shrugged.
“I believe passion to be a benefit one ought to experience with a spouse. I believe if one vows to forsake all others, then one ought to have every intention of doing just that.” He looked off across the lake, surprisingly not sure where his words came from.
“And if there is no passion within the marriage, fidelity would bring with it a great deal of sacrifice for both partners.”
This was why he avoided the idea of marriage. Unlike many members of the ton, he was not of a mind to carry on with a mistress after he’d taken a wife.
“And friendship?” she persisted. “And trust?”
Garrett lifted his shoulders to show her he’d not considered these questions. “I suppose both of those ought to exist within a marriage.”
“Well, my lord, I think if you take passion and throw in some friendship and trust, well, that is love.” She pulled back on the oars again. “You are as much a romantic as I. You wish for love in your marriage as well.”
Garrett leaned his elbows on his knees and contemplated her. “Oh, hell.”
Natalie continued rowing, smoothly, quietly, both of them lost in thought. A few unthreatening clouds appeared in the flawless sky. Birds flitted from tree to tree, and a wisp of wind rustled the leaves.
“And where does romance fit into this ideal relationship consisting of trust and friendship and passion?” Garrett asked, breaking the silence, as though there had been no pause in their conversation.
Natalie tilted her head and closed her eyes. “ ‘The smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent. A mind at peace with all below. A heart whose love is innocent.’ ”
Garrett chuckled. “Ah, yes, Lord Byron. That fellow has ruined ladies throughout the kingdom with his drivel.”
Her eyes narrowed at his comment.
Yes, yes, a heart whose love is innocent described Lady Natalie perfectly.
He paused before continuing, “ ‘She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes…’ But the lady Byron refers to has raven tresses, I believe. ”
“Is that the romance you refer to, my lord?” Natalie drawled. “What do you think romance is, after all?”
Garrett raised one hand and rubbed his chin in an honest attempt to appear thoughtful. “Flowers? A waltz? Moonlit walks in the garden? Or perhaps around a lake?” He lifted one eyebrow as he made his last suggestion.
“You are hopeless, and a cynic to boot,” Natalie said in exasperation.
Garrett opened his arms wide. “At last, you understand me. Although I prefer you think of me as a realist.”
“ ‘So we’ll go no more a roving, so late into the night, though the heart be still as loving and the moon be still as bright…’ ” Natalie spoke the words softly.
Garrett knew this one as well. “ ‘Though the night was made for loving. And the day returns too soon. Yet we’ll go no more a roving by the light of the moon.’ ”
Both contemplated the words they’d spoken as Natalie continued to row.
“It isn’t all drivel, Garrett Castleton.” Natalie broke the silence.
Natalie was tired from rowing but would never make such an admission.
Lord Hawthorne had tilted his head back and closed his eyes.
No man ought to have such long lashes. Relaxed, sitting in the boat in his shirtsleeves, he looked both virile and vulnerable at the same time.
What a pair they were! It seemed that neither she nor Lord Hawthorne knew what they wanted from one another.
Well, they did not know what they wanted long term, anyhow.
When he’d grasped her leg and slid his hand along her calf, she’d had to call upon all of her willpower not to edge closer to him. A shiver ran through her at the thought of his hand travelling higher up her leg.
Jostling the boat, Garrett shifted and lay back leisurely, resting his head upon his folded jacket.
He looked as though he might even fall asleep.
How did men do this? Fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions?
Her brothers had this same ability. It vexed Natalie that she required the perfect position, the perfect mattress and pillow, to even contemplate falling asleep.
Tempted to splash Garrett, she examined him instead.
Relaxed, his jaw dropped the tiniest bit, parting his lips.
His chest rose and fell evenly. Ironically enchanted, she noticed a small dimple just below the right corner of his mouth that she hadn’t observed before.
She wanted to reach out and touch it. She wanted to kiss him there.
Of course, she would not do so. He had humiliated her enough already.
He’d advised her upon what merits a good marriage could hold. Not to himself. To some other unsuspecting gentleman, one who might allow her as much freedom as she desired.
But she would never desire a man who would allow her such control. What fools women were! What a fool she was! She wanted independence, autonomy, and yet she also wanted…something else. If she were honest with herself, she might admit she would like to know more of Garrett Castleton.
She liked his sense of humor. She liked the looks of him for certain. She liked that he was something of a rake, but she also admitted to herself that he was a gentleman. He had displayed hidden depths of honor on more than one occasion.
And now he had quoted poetry to her.
Even though he admitted to being cynical—a realist—his voice had caressed her with the poet’s words.