Chapter 4 #2
“The conservatory,” she said softly, her eyes brightening with triumph.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to push aside any notion of hope where Maddie was concerned. “Yes, of course.”
They made their way to the conservatory, the glass structure attached to the east wing of the house. The late morning sun filtered through the glass panes, casting beams across the pathway and warming the space to a pleasant temperature despite the winter chill outside.
“It’s beautiful in here,” Maddie breathed, her gaze traveling upward to the arched glass ceiling.
John watched as she moved ahead of him, her fingers trailing along the glossy leaves of a camellia bush. Her every move had always been graceful, and he was entranced watching her lean down to breathe in a bloom on the next plant.
“I believe we’re looking for something hidden among the plants,” John said, his voice sounding strangely rough to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps near the fountain?”
They moved further along the path, and Maddie tripped on an uneven stone. With quick reflexes, he caught her, his hands encircling her waist as he helped her to stand upright. Their gazes met and held.
Time seemed to stand still as John held Maddie in his arms. The warmth of her body against his, the slight weight of her in his grasp—it was achingly familiar and yet felt like something he didn’t deserve to feel, even if he couldn’t make himself let go.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she stared up at him, her lips parting slightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath a gentle caress against his chin.
John knew he should release her, step away and restore the careful distance they had maintained.
But his hands refused to obey, lingering at her waist. The conservatory’s humid air wrapped around them, heavy with the scent of exotic blooms and damp earth.
A single drop of condensation fell from a leaf above, landing on Maddie’s cheek.
Without thinking, John brushed it away with his thumb, his touch lingering against her skin. He reveled in the softness beneath his fingertips, the warmth of her that seemed to seep into his perpetually cold soul.
A tremor passed through Maddie, barely perceptible save for the slight catch in her breath. Something shifted in her eyes—a vulnerability that made John’s heart clinch painfully in his chest.
“John,” she whispered, his name on her lips both a question and a plea.
The rational part of his mind screamed caution, but his body refused to heed its warning. Instead, he leaned closer, drawn by an invisible thread that had always connected them, even though he knew that his foolishness had long severed it.
To his surprise, she didn’t back away. She swayed closer to him, and his hands gripped her hips tighter as he leaned his head closer to hers.
A few more inches and he’d feel his lips against hers for the first time in five years.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the cautious voice of reason.
“We are sure to win!” an excited female voice said loudly as footsteps approached.
John jumped back, releasing Maddie as they both continued to search for the clue with exaggerated interest. Maddie refused to meet his gaze as she examined a nearby bromeliad, but he couldn’t help noticing the heightened flush of her cheeks.
“I believe I’ve found something,” Maddie said, her voice surprisingly steady as she reached beneath a large fern. She withdrew a small envelope sealed with red wax, her fingers trembling slightly as she broke the seal.
The couple who had interrupted them, Lord and Lady Pembroke, hurried past, oblivious to what they’d just prevented. Damn them. They disappeared around a bend in the path, not realizing that they’d passed where the clues were hidden.
“What does it say?” John asked quietly to avoid alerting the competition. He’d be damned if they not only cost him his chance to kiss Maddie again, but also robbed her of winning the game.
Maddie unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the contents. “Congratulations on reaching the final clue,” she read, still not looking at John. “We are to return to the ballroom with each of the papers.”
John motioned for her to lead the way. He truly didn’t care if they had won or not. What had become painfully clear was that he couldn’t keep lying to himself.
He was still in love with Madeline Dawson.
As they walked back through the winding pathways of the conservatory, John maintained a careful distance behind her, watching the elegant sway of her skirts. He loved to torture himself, apparently.
The memory of her breath heating his lips mere moments ago tormented him. What would have happened if the Pembrokes hadn’t interrupted? Would she have allowed him to kiss her? Or would she have pulled away, enraged that he dared to do so?
And she would have been correct. He had absolutely no right to think she could ever return his feelings.
“Do you think we’ll win?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had stretched between them. She glanced back over her shoulder, and he was startled to see a slight playfulness in her expression.
“I find I no longer care about the victory,” he replied honestly.
The corner of her mouth curled upward. “Merely being humble before we claim our prize?”
John shook his head, surprised by her teasing tone. “Perhaps.”
They walked in silence for a moment longer before she spoke again. “I’m sorry about the snowball yesterday. That was . . . childish of me.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly. “It was the first time I’ve laughed in . . .” The admission slipped out before he could stop it, more honest than he’d intended to be.
Maddie slowed her pace, clasping his arm. “John . . .”
Whatever she might have said was lost as they emerged from the conservatory to find Rosina waiting for them, hands clasped in delight.
“You’re the first to return! We have our winners,” she exclaimed, taking the collected clues from Maddie.
The rest of the guests filtered in as Rosina announced their victory. John barely heard the congratulations. His attention was fixed on Maddie as she accepted the accolades with a gracious smile. He would do just about anything to be the one who made her smile.
That evening, as he prepared for dinner, John took more care with his appearance than he had in months.
He instructed his valet to trim his hair, which had grown somewhat unruly, and selected his finest evening clothes.
He couldn’t explain the impulse, except that for the first time in years, he wanted to be seen—truly seen—rather than fade into the background as he had grown accustomed to doing.
When he descended for dinner, he caught Maddie’s quick glance of appreciation before she looked away, pretending to be absorbed in conversation with an elderly countess. That fleeting moment of recognition warmed him more than he cared to admit.
John took his seat, determined to make an effort this evening.
He would eat, despite his usual lack of appetite.
He would engage in conversation, despite how exhausting it often was.
And he would try, because today he had glimpsed what might still be possible, if only he could find the courage to reach for it.
And as the evening progressed, he watched Maddie across the table.
He couldn’t help but note the way she smiled at her dinner companions, the animated gestures of her hands as she spoke, the musical cadence of her laugh when amused.
She was so vibrantly alive, so present in a way he had forgotten how to be.
Five years ago, he had convinced himself that she would be better off without him, that his darkness would only drag her down. Now, watching her shine across the dinner table, he wasn’t certain that anything could dim her light. She was everything good and kind. Exactly who he needed.