A Soldier’s Heart(42)

Her eyes, blue pools of confusion, lifted to his, stirring to life an ache in his chest. His heart gave one single stroke.

“It’s beautiful. She does fine work.” He forced his tones to be even despite the blood pounding loudly through his veins.

She nodded, folding the tiny garment back into its wrappings. “I must ride out and thank her.” Lifting her chin, she gave him a fleeting smile. “Rest well, my lord.”

Nodding, he slowly closed the door and leaned his forehead against it. Breathing deeply, he tried to still his pulse. This whole day had provided him with a new perspective. Perhaps that was why he could now see the thread with which he could weave something of meaning with his life.

Serena leaned her hot forehead against the door, Mrs. Watley’s gift clutched to her breasts. What in Blackwood’s eyes made her tremble? Was it her first reaction to hearing his knock—believing he might be ready to confide in her about his nightmares? Or was it the something that had sparked between them?

She lifted the tiny garment to rub the delicate cotton against her cheek.

For long weeks she’d pondered Buckle’s words concerning looking to the future. Now Serena fully realized what that might mean, and she wished for it above all else.





The union  





Matt hardly slept with all the feelings warring inside him. However, as he stared into the shaving mirror above the washstand, he was shocked to discover he didn’t look tired, a new hope lit his eyes. The lackluster film of crushed hopes and broken dreams that had hung like a pall over him since he’d fallen in battle had begun to be lifted, and it was all due to Serena.

He breakfasted alone before reviewing the estate books once again. From what he’d been told yesterday, it was obvious he had too long let things drift here. If Serena hadn’t seen what needed to be done, his tenants would have had good reason to be discontent. Instead, despite the cost of the improvements, the estate seemed to be more productive than ever. Serena’s generosity had sparked a positive response in his people. He shook his head in wonder. Perhaps there was still a place for idealism, as long as one was prepared for reality to rear its inevitable head.

Serena. What other surprises would he discover about his bride? Considering, his heart gave one single stroke, bringing forth the odd stirrings and memories.

As if he could conjure her up, a soft knock sounded. Eagerly he called a greeting but was destined to disappointment.

“What a long face,” Cecily gasped, one hand clutching her throat. “Is something wrong? Have you heard news from London? Not Father!”

The terror in her wide sherry eyes demanded reassurance.

“Poppet, it’s nothing. I’m working too hard.” He smiled, beckoning her to him. “Come and talk to me.”

She took his hand, swinging it between them, as she perched on the edge of the dark walnut desk.

“I wanted to inform you of my plans. At the end of the week, if the weather holds, we shall lunch at the White Feathers and then view the ruin. As you requested, Serena is at work on a ball. This morning we put together the guest list. It’s just wonderful how efficient Serena can be! Isn’t she remarkable?” Cecily gushed.

His sister’s objective was so transparent, Matt couldn’t help smiling. The habit of cosseting his dramatic young sister was not easily broken.

“Yes, quite amazing. I hadn’t realized when—”

“Well, how could you!” Cecily interrupted, her sherry eyes now flashing with indignation. “When you were ripped from her bosom on your wedding night! Thank goodness all that is at an end. We are all safe from that horrid Boney forever, and you and Kendall will never have to go to war again!”

For the first time, memory broke through the cool detachment he’d erected around his heart and mind. Suddenly he could feel Serena trembling against his shoulder; see her pink, temptingly soft lips part as his fingers slid through her hair, gently combing the thick, silken strands into a cascade of ebony across her throat and down over her round, full breasts.

The stirrings in his gut tightened to a hot ache and he recognized it for what it was—desire.

“Matt, are you all right?” Cecily asked, tugging on his sleeve, bringing him sharply back to reality.

“Yes, I was just thinking about the plans you’ve made. What does Kendall say?”

“Lord Kendall is enchanted.” With a toss of her head, the dimple deepened in her cheek. “I shall make sure of that!”



The day dawned, cool but clear, as if it, too, were anxious to appease Lady Cecily. Kendall appeared pleased, his eyes sparkling green glints in the bright sunlight as he held his horse’s head, gazing to where Cecily and Serena were engaged in a low conversation at the side of the drive.