by Rose Gordon
“A sticker, most likely.” He reached down and picked up the box he'd left out that held miscellaneous supplies, then handed it to her. “Hold this. I'll carry you.” As soon as her fingers closed around it, he lifted her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees.
Instead of protesting or turning as rigid as a statue at his touch as he'd feared she might, she wrapped her left arm around his neck and leaned her head against his chest as she'd done when they first married.
He carried her to a little spot of smooth, soft grass and set her down on the edge. He wasn't as close to the fire as he'd have liked to be in order to see what was wrong with her foot, but it'd have to do. The tails on the shirt she wore wouldn't be enough protection for her delicate areas were he to place her on a log.
“Is it on the bottom?” he asked, slowly running the pads of his fingers along the bottom of her foot.
“Yes, right there.”
He stopped, his fingernail catching on the edge of something hard. He moved his thumbnail to the other side and pulled. “As I suspected, it was a sticker.” He threw it behind her. “Any others?” he asked, placing his left hand on her ankle.
She gave a startled scream and kicked him with her heel. “Please, forgive me,” she gushed. “I didn't mean to kick you.”
“Is something wrong with your ankle?”
“The skin is just sensitive, I think. The slippers I wore today were not made for walking such distances.”
“I'd wager you have quite a nasty blister under that stocking.” He repositioned them so both of her feet were resting in his lap. “What of the other?”
“It hurts, too.”
“Can I have my box, please?”
She handed it to him. “What do you need from in there?”
He flipped the lid on the box. “Salve.”
“Salve? Why on earth do you have a jar of salve out here?”
Edward shook his head ruefully. “Have you learned nothing of my brother John during our marriage? On more than one occasion he hurt himself while trying to be devious and found himself in need.” He blindly rummaged around until he found the little jar of salve. “Though he was always finding himself in need of saving, he never had a problem saying anything when he was in pain.” He glanced over to her face. “I don't know why you feel the need to hide when you're in pain.” Actually, that wasn't true; he knew why she did it as well as she did: nobody had ever cared enough about her for her to feel important enough to say anything. He set the box down with a sigh. It wasn't his place to give her a lecture about such matters; as her husband, it was his place to show her she was important and make her believe it.
With a swallow, he ran his left hand up her calf, then past her knee to the top of her stocking. “I'll try to be gentle.” He slipped his thumb inside the edge of her stocking and slowly slid it down her leg until her foot was free of its confines. Then he reached over and removed her other stocking.
Edward placed her stockings beside him then picked up the jar of salve and uncorked it. The smell of the herbs from the ointment filled his nostrils. He dipped two fingers into the jar, coating his fingertips with the thick liquid. Careful not to touch her where it might hurt, he lifted her foot and began to rub the oil along her heel.
“Edward?”
“Yes?”
“Why don't I ever hear you talk about astronomy?”
He finished with her first foot and reached for the second. “I don't know. I never took an interest in it, I suppose.”
“So then you don't know which stars’ patterns these are?”
He glanced up to the sky. “I know some of the constellations, but not all. Do you like astronomy?”
“I don't know. I don't know anything about it.”
“Would you care to learn?” He finished with her second foot and put both of her feet down on the ground so he could lie next to her.
“Do you have a telescope?”
He reached for her hand. “No, but I can buy one. I'll even have a little building set up for it, if you'd like.”
Was it his imagination or had she just inched closer to him? “I'm surprised you don't already have such a building.”
“That's because I never really formed an interest in astronomy.” With his free hand, he plucked up a small patch of grass and then let it go. “My father was vastly fascinated by the mechanics of things such as clocks and automatons. He taught me the scientific formulas that most boys never care to learn. It was what we did together. After Mother died, he all but gave up on life. He didn't care to learn of the mechanics of things any longer.” He took a deep breath. “It was like I'd lost him, too.”
“Perhaps that's the real reason you started mucking around in the conservatory. It wasn't to discover some herbal cure for Timothy, but to replace your father.”
He blew out a deep breath. How was it she had the ability to see in him what others couldn't? “You're right. That was exactly my reason. I wanted an interest of my own. Something I alone understood and didn't have to share with anyone else with the fear that they'd lose interest one day and destroy any enjoyment I'd had in the pursuit right along with the automatons I'd built.”
Regina's gasp was like a balm to his aching heart. “He didn't?”
“He did.” He twisted his lips at the memory of his father smashing all the automatons Edward had worked so hard to build. “It was far worse at fourteen than it is now. Then, I didn't understand his frustrations hadn't anything to do with me. Now, I know the difference, which is why I still enjoy taking things apart and putting them back together, but not building my own.”
“Ever?”
“I wouldn't say never, just not yet. If the son we may one day have found them of interest, I'd teach him how; but, as of now, I haven't had the desire to tinker with them since then.”
“Because you prefer your solo pursuits?”
He sighed. “Were he—or anyone else who might live around here—to take a fancy to any of my scientific pursuits, I'd gladly share my knowledge. You should know that.” At first, he might have invited her to join him in the conservatory because he felt compelled to entertain her on their wedding trip, but he'd grown fond of having her there. Had she been unwanted or a nuisance, he'd have found something else for her to do after that first day. But he hadn't; he'd enjoyed having her around. And though he'd rather not tell her such and make her feel as if she were nothing but a muse for him and his discoveries, he'd hardly given two thoughts to his flowers and experiments since she'd stopped joining him each day. Odd that.
The crackle of the fire and the quiet noise of the crickets chirping in the distance filled the air. Above them, more stars came out to join the moon in the sky, reminding him of his promise to her about learning more about astronomy together. An idea for the building he'd have to build to house the telescope came to mind. Tall and thin with an interior ladder she could climb to look through the telescope while he stood close behind her, his body pressing hers... Yes, he'd have to order one erected, post haste.
“Edward?”
“Yes, Regina?”
“Thank you for my adventure.” Then, before he could form a response, she shocked him to the toes by brushing a sweet kiss on his cheek and then curled up beside him, her body pressed against his, her head lying on his chest that could hardly contain his wildly beating heart.
~Chapter Twenty-Six~
As the cloak of darkness evaporated, so did Regina's boldness. Perhaps it was the way he'd never once lost his temper with her during the day, or the way he'd carried her and gently rubbed salve on her blisters, or even all the personal things he'd revealed about himself. Or, most likely, it was a combination of all three. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. She'd just wanted to be close to him; to feel him and smell him; to hear his heart beating near her ear as she fell asleep.
But now
that the sun had returned, so had her modesty.
“I'll go get your clothes,” Edward offered. He gained his bare feet and walked to the rope he'd hung.
Shamelessly, Regina watched him. Until last night, she'd never seen him without a shirt. He'd always come to her room with his dressing robe over his nightshirt. When they'd first married, she’d tried to catch glimpses of his arms or shoulders as he'd shrugged out of his dressing robe before joining her in bed.
Edward pulled down her chemise and gown and turned to walk back toward her. The way he held the clothes in front of him blocked her view of the muscled chest she'd rested her cheek against last night, but still gave her a generous view of his broad shoulders, built from years of paddling a small boat full of boys down the river. A smile took her lips. He'd make a great father. A wave of sadness washed over her. He wouldn't get to be a father if they didn't resume marital activities though. Perhaps tonight when he came to her she should meet him standing in front of her bed as she'd done when they'd first married and he came to her room.
Edward approached then and handed her her chemise. “If you'd like to put this on, I'll help you with your gown.”
Regina pulled her chemise from his grip, her face suddenly flaming. Did he know what she'd just been thinking? “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” With her gown draped over his left arm, he walked over to the shelter where she'd abandoned her slippers.
Quickly, she pulled his shirt over her head and then pulled on her chemise. It didn't offer a lot more covering, but it offered enough. The hem of the shirt barely covered her intimate parts; at least the chemise went down to her knees. “I'm ready,” she called.
“I'll be there in a moment,” Edward called from inside the shelter. A few seconds later, he emerged with her slippers in his left hand and her gown over his arm, and something she couldn't make out in his right hand.
“What is that?”
Edward walked over to her and held it where she could see his find.
“A turtle?” she said with a squeak, stepping away from the dark green circular object that had six moving parts coming out in every direction, wiggling.
He grinned. “I went in there to see if I could find the pocket watch Jarred left out here and found this. Would you care to touch him?” He lifted the turtle so close to her she could actually see all the little scales that covered his legs.
“You rascal.” He'd only asked her that because she'd said she hadn't touched the one she'd seen before.
He held it closer to her. “I should hate for this opportunity to pass you by. You never know when you'll have the opportunity to see another.”
“I imagine there are quite a few back at Watson Estate I could pet,” she reminded him. Not only had he invited her to do so once before, but last night, he couldn't have been any more clear in his meaning had he shouted it from the mountaintops: anything that was his, he'd gladly share. Whether it was his pet turtles or his love for biological sciences, he'd share. And while she might not have an overwhelming interest in either, she knew his real meaning: nothing he'd invited her to do with him had been done begrudgingly.
“There are,” he conceded. “But, they aren't here and this one is. Just touch him.”
“And if I do?”
“Then I shall go pick us some berries for breakfast after I help you into your gown.”
Her stomach grumbled. That trout hadn't been enough for her. Likely, it hadn't been enough for Edward either, but gentleman that he was, he wouldn't say anything about how much more filling the rabbit would have been. “And if I don't?”
“Then I shall go pick us some berries for breakfast after I help you into your gown.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “But I'd rather you touch him, even if it's just once.”
She swallowed. “All right, just once.” Taking a deep breath, she extended her index finger in the direction of the moving creature and ran the pad along the back of his shell. The turtle continued to swim in the air, his scaly legs going back and forth. “Will it hurt him if I touch his legs?”
“Not at all.”
Tentatively, she crooked her finger and ran the back of it down his legs then touched the turtle's sticky foot with the pad of her finger. “Exactly how you'd described.”
A strange gleam shone in his eyes. “I'm glad you enjoyed it then.” He bent down and set the turtle down in the grass. “I don't have the means to take him home today,” he murmured as if he'd read her mind. He stood and dropped her slippers to the ground. “Those will not be making the journey back, either. I have no idea how you ladies can wear them anyway, but those are especially stiff.” He scowled at the offending slippers and held her stays out in front of her.
She stepped into her stays. “And what shall I wear back?”
“Nothing. You'll be my barefoot bride.”
A slight thrill shot through Regina at his words. “I don't think my feet will manage as well as yours have.” She dropped her gaze to his dirty, bare feet. He'd walked quite a ways without his boots yesterday without a single complaint. There wasn't even the slightest chance she'd be able to do the same.
“Not to worry. On the other side of the thicket of trees is nothing but grass for miles.” He pulled her stays up and began tying the laces. “I'll carry you there and then you can walk in the grass.”
With Edward's help, Regina got her gown over her head and down enough to cover her stays. But because Edward was a gentleman and not a lady's maid, her gown didn't have a hope of being buttoned. She just slipped her arms in the sleeves, thankful that at least it fit that well.
After Edward had cleaned up their mess from last night and picked them enough strawberries and cherries to last until they made it back to Watson Estate, he did exactly as promised and scooped her up and carried her through the thick trees to the grass.
By the time they arrived at Watson Estate, Regina was exhausted and the idea of a late luncheon held no appeal. The two of them had made their return into a giant game with multiple footraces to various objects, trying not to laugh at the other's jests, and they'd even sung various songs, some of which Regina didn't even know what the words meant! By the way Edward laughed and cheered her on, she could only guess they were naughty. Still, she didn't mind. Edward was unlike anyone she'd ever met before, and, for a reason she could no more explain than understand, he unleashed her inhibitions and gave her the ability to enjoy her existence.
Ignoring the looks of shock on the servants' faces, Edward took care of ordering Regina a bath and a servant to go retrieve any items they'd left where they'd camped last night.
Following her bath, Regina closed her eyes for a nap only to be awakened by Georgie the following morning, informing her it was time to don her travel clothes for her trip back to London.
“Would you mind if I practice my speech?” Edward asked as Watson Estate faded from view.
“You're not nervous, are you?”
“Perhaps a little,” he confessed. “I've been trying to garner support for the biological society I'm trying to form for a long time. Lord Edgewood says he'll give his support and release his former experiments to be released as articles for a circular we could print to help gain more interest. But he'll only do that if I have enough others who are interested.”
“Other than his articles and his support by joining the society, do you need him for anything else?”
“No. But both of those are very important. Without his study journals, we'd be lacking a reliable source; and his patronage to our meetings would help give us credibility as a real society, and not a whim.”
“But I thought you were known for your knowledge on the subject.”
“I am. But I'm not as educated as Lord Edgewood.” He sighed. “My name would lend enough credibility to the group, if need be; but with his name and viable studies, the society would be stronger.”
&n
bsp; Regina stared at her husband, stock-still. How was it someone who was so well-known for his biological accomplishments and extensive knowledge could be so humble? Her father was so proud it was infuriating. Nothing, it seemed, could humble the man. “Very well, I'd love to hear your speech.”
“Thank you, Regina. This means a lot to me.”
She had the slightest urge to ask if he meant her listening or the event he was rehearsing for, in general, but decided against it. Sometimes, it was better not to know.
Edward's speech was perfect! “You'll win over all those biology driven gentlemen tomorrow, to be sure.”
“I hope you're right,” he said, stuffing his speech back into his pocket. “Thank you for listening and making suggestions. Sometimes things sound good in our heads, but not when they come out of our mouths.”
She agreed with that logic as several such statements fitting that criterion popped into her head. “How much longer do you think we have until we reach London?” she asked before yawning.
Edward pulled out his pocket watch. “According to this, it's three o'clock, which would mean we've only traveled an hour.”
“That can't be. Your speech itself must be that long.”
Edward's chuckle made her blush.
“I didn't mean that how it sounded.”
He waved her off. “I know what you meant.” He handed her his watch. “It got wet when we fell in the water yesterday. I took it apart and tried to fix it last night but didn't have all the supplies necessary. So, until I get it repaired, it will continue to say whatever I turn the stem to.” He glanced outside. “I'd wager we have two hours until we reach Watson Townhouse.”
Regina nodded sadly. It was time to play the role of a lady again. Tomorrow she'd play hostess to the gentlemen invited over to discuss the formation of a biological society, then in a week she'd host her breakfast. At least Edward had been kind enough to take her on at least one adventure.
