Chapter 9 #3
Crowing with triumph, she opened the top of the large bag Mrs. Robson had provided them and tossed it in. She took two steps back towards the poplar. “Shall I get more?”
“No! No, leave it.”
“Spoilsport.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and saw he was composed again, one hand smoothing his dark hair down and replacing his hat as though nothing had happened. He would have been the picture of the perfect gentleman if not for the dark beard sprouting on his chin and cheeks.
She wanted to discompose him. She wanted to ruffle him. She wanted… she wanted…
“I think there are more evergreens over here,” she said, and dashed off before she could do anything she might regret.
They passed the morning like that, with Penny darting here and there to gather the greens while Hugo carried the bag that was rapidly filling up. His reserve with her only goaded her to flirt more, to tease and joke while he trudged behind her, his mood visibly growing darker and darker.
Good. His mood was finally beginning to match hers beneath her teasing words.
As she headed towards another pair of holly bushes that flanked an evergreen, Hugo stopped walking. She turned to look back at him, confused.
“Do you have no heart?” he growled.
“I... what?”
“Today was supposed to be your wedding day.”
“Yes, I know. That is why I am here, and not there. Because I have no wish to marry Kendal.”
As he stood there glaring at her, the tension of the last few days exploded through her, and she stalked towards him through the snow.
“What do you want of me, Hugo? To be unhappy? To marry a man who doesn’t love me? Will my misery satisfy your honor so you can go sailing off to Bermuda with a clear conscience?”
He stayed silent, and it only made her temper soar higher, seeking an outlet for her hurt feelings and the tension of the last few days.
“I could ask the same question of you. You care for no one but yourself. You only want me to go back so I don’t disturb your comfortable life.
Well, I am not here to make any Dalston’s life comfortable.
Not anymore. Once the snow melts, you can go your way, and I shall go mine, and you will never have to worry about me again.
My life is no business of yours anymore. ”
Almost before she knew it was happening, Hugo flung down the bag and rapidly closed the distance between them, pushing her back against the trunk of the nearest tree with his body, his hand cradling the back of her head to keep it steady.
“What— ”
His mouth closed over hers, consuming her with an intensity that summoned the same hunger from her, hands clawing at his shoulders as she clung to him, pulling him even closer.
His hips pulsed against hers in a timeless rhythm, and her thighs parted naturally to make room for him against her aching core.
Yes. This is what she had been craving, and she had not known it until this moment.
She had never felt like this before. She had never done anything like this in her life. But in Hugo’s arms, she felt she had been made for this moment, made to be with him like this. It was the most natural thing in the world.
She whimpered in frustration at the layers of clothing between them and he pulled his head back to look at her, his eyes dark and hot as he stared at her like he wanted to devour her.
“This,” he said with another thrust, his body grinding against hers until she bit her lip to hold back her moan of pleasure. “This is what I want from you. This is what I’ve always wanted from you. Stop teasing me, or you might get it.”
“But—”
He pulled abruptly away from her, adjusting the front of his trousers before stooping to pick up the discarded bag of evergreens. “It’s nearly noon. We must go back.”
With only the slightest of glances to where she still stood stunned against the trunk of the tree, he began to walk back towards the inn, his step as firm as though he’d never kissed her.
Slowly, she peeled herself away from the tree and followed, stepping into his footprints to avoid sinking too far into the snow as her brain raced.
Hugo… wanted her? He clearly didn’t think of her as a sister anymore.
If he ever had. Perhaps that was why the tiny hand-carved swallow he had given her had become her talisman during her recovery, her lucky charm.
Perhaps it had given her the feeling that there was at least one person who thought of her, Penny.
Not as the future duchess, but as herself, a bird desperate to spread its wings and fly away.
He must care for her. He could not kiss her like that and not care. But how odd to only realize it now, after all these years.
And had there been... something more for her as well? Something that had made her eager to hear his tales of the sea, to look forward to seeing him and be disappointed when he was unable to attend that year’s house party?
That kiss had changed something within her, created an awareness that was not entirely welcome. She did not know what to do next. How was she to lay next to him in bed tonight and not think of that kiss, and of everything that could follow it if she had the courage to ask?