sometimes embarrassing habit of resulting from such activity as we just indulged in.'
How utterly foolish of her not to have thought of that-especially on the day of a christening.
'It will not happen,' she said briskly, getting to her feet and setting the bed to rights again.
'If it has happened,' he told her, 'we have both of us acquired a leg shackle, sweetheart. For now we had better get back to the house and hope that no one has noticed quite how long we have been absent.'
They bundled up in their cloaks, and she waited outside, getting her bearings in the dark woods, while he extinguished the lamp, locked the door, and put the key back where they had found it. They walked back to the driveway and across the bridge without talking.
It was strange that she should feel so strongly opposed to marrying Joshua, she thought. It was not that she did not want to marry at all. She did. And she was five and twenty already. Joshua was handsome, charming, witty, and attractive, and he liked the same sort of vigorous outdoor activities as she. They had been to bed together and it had been a glorious experience.
Why did she not wish to marry him, then?
Because he did not wish to marry her? Because she might be in danger of falling in love with him? Why would that be undesirable?
Because she would feel disloyal to Kit? Or because she would destroy her foolishly romantic dream of love by proving that it was possible to love two different men in the course of a lifetime?
Because she was afraid that her heart might be broken-again?
But Lady Freyja Bedwyn did not fear anything or anyone. Ever.
'If I were an enemy army watching you march into battle against me,' Joshua said, 'I would not wait and stand my ground but turn and flee in panic and terror.'
'What nonsense you speak,' she said.
'Why the grim look and the long, purposeful stride, my charmer?' he asked her.
'It is cold, if you had not noticed,' she said. 'I am eager to get back to the house.'
'Our outing has served its purpose, then, has it?' he asked.
She turned her head and looked at him in the darkness.
'You must understand,' she said, 'that everyone in my family and Kit's, everyone in the whole neighborhood, I daresay, knew that he was coming home to marry me. And then he came with Lauren Edgeworth and presented her as his betrothed. I have never been accustomed to humiliation. I thought it a ploy to anger me, to punish me. I thought it a fake betrothal because they seemed so very unsuited to each other. In fact, the circumstances seemed very similar to yours and mine now. Except that I thought he really meant to have me in the end. But he married her instead. I am not abject, Josh. I am not an object of pity. I am just . . . angry.'
'It is a love match,' he said. 'Take it from someone who has met them for the first time today. It is very much a love match, Free.'
She laughed softly as they approached the house across the lawn. 'Are those meant to be words of comfort?' she asked.
'I would not so insult you,' he said. 'You like straight talk, sweetheart. You like the truth more than falsehood and directness more than evasion. Your Kit is very deeply in love with his wife.'
'My Kit.' She laughed again. 'He was raw with pain that summer four years ago. He had just brought Sydnam back from the Peninsula, broken and maimed and closer to death than life. He blamed himself. He was Sydnam's only companion on that reconnaissance mission and his superior officer. When they were trapped by a French scouting party and one of them had to court capture so that the other could go free to complete the mission, Kit was the one who went free. He was mad with guilt that summer-and he turned to me. My Kit-he was never mine.'
She had never faced up to the truth of all this before now. While he had been as desperately in love with her as she with him that summer, for him it had been a transitory thing, a way of coping with his guilt and anxiety. She wondered if Wulfric had realized that and so had taken the unusual step of interfering in her life, of actually lecturing her about duty. She wondered if the Earl of Redfield had realized it. And Jerome.
Everyone but her.
There was no one strolling on the terrace now. Everyone was indoors.
'This is the moment,' Joshua said, 'at which we must hope that our absence has not been too particularly remarked upon and that every pin in your hair does not decide to clatter to the carpet as soon as we step into the drawing room.'
Their long absence had not, of course, escaped the notice of Freyja's family. Aidan raised his eyebrows when they entered the drawing room, Alleyne waggled his, Morgan smiled knowingly as she caught Freyja's eye, and Wulfric fingered the handle of his quizzing glass. Only Rannulf did not react-he was deep in conversation with Kit and the viscountess and Judith.
Kit was sitting next to the viscountess, his arm draped along the back of her chair, his fingertips just touching her shoulder on the far side. It was an almost shockingly informal pose, but it was late in the day and everyone seemed more relaxed than they had been earlier. They were both engrossed in listening to something Judith was saying.
Yes, it was true, Freyja thought. She had known it for a long time, of course-perhaps even from the beginning. It was a love match. And perhaps they were even suited, the two of them. Certainly they were a handsome couple.
She did not wait to consider whether or not the admission brought pain with it. She glanced at Joshua, who was looking down at her quizzically, linked her arm through his, and strode across the room with him.
'I hope,' he murmured, 'I am not about to be embroiled in a scene, sweetheart. I do find scenes embarrassing.'
