It was astonishing the loss she felt, given she’d known him only a few weeks. It was a physical pain, roiling in her stomach. Just when she was beginning to form a fragile bond with her husband, he’d left.
She strode straight to unlock the drawer and dig to the bottom.
The poetry was gone.
She riffled through all the papers to make sure. Gone, all of it. Suddenly exhausted, she sank to the floor, her heart sinking along with her. She pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to draw breath. Not only was her one link to him missing, he was clearly intent on keeping her at arm’s length.
Rushed to begin a long journey, he’d nonetheless taken the time to stop and remove the pages. Remove any possibility that by reading his words, she might discover who he was on the inside.
She should have gone with him.
She couldn’t allow him to isolate himself. Not if they were to live a lifetime together.
And now it might be too late.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“HE LEFT,” Kendra told Caithren the next afternoon. “He had no choice.”
“Of course he didn’t.” Cait stopped beneath one of Amberley’s many arbors and played with the ends of her dark-blond hair. “But why didn’t you go along?”
“He didn’t want me along.” Kendra squinted at her sister-in-law in the shadows. “Isn’t this the loveliest garden?” Her gesture encompassed more than the vine-covered walkway. “The head gardener told me it was designed by Salaman de Caux himself.”
“Salaman who?”
“De Caux. The celebrated Frenchman. Have you not heard of him?”
“Nay. My garden at Leslie was filled with herbs and vegetables.” Cait’s lips turned up in a self-deprecating smile. “Nary a posy in sight.”
Amberley House’s gardens were the most extensive Kendra had ever seen. Geometric configurations of flower beds, knots, and borders surrounded a lake where fishes darted beneath the clear water. Avenues lined with painted and gilded stone lions flanked a massive bowling green. Walls of fruit trees divided the charming wilderness garden from those more formal, like the privy garden they were heading toward.
As they strolled from the arbor into the sunshine, her gaze trailed to the massive mansion that loomed over it all. “I’m afraid Trick’s father depleted his entire fortune building this place.”
“Has Trick said so?”
“Not in so many words,” she said, hesitating to say more. Confiding Trick’s financial instability might lead to speculation about his continuing highway robbery.
“Then I wouldn’t assume so,” Cait said. “The estate is very impressive, but then, Trick is a duke. And you’re very good at changing the subject.”
Kendra flashed her a wry smile. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” She reached overhead to pluck off a fragrant flower, worrying its soft petals between her fingers. After returning from the cottage last night, she’d gone to sleep early and stayed abed late. But her stomach was still in knots. “Part of me still cannot believe I’m married. Do you know, even as we rode away that day, I was sure Colin would come riding after us to say it was all an elaborate joke. I’d convinced myself the parson was in on it—that somehow the ceremony wasn’t valid.”
“But it was.”
“I was furious. I still am. I don’t feel like talking to my brothers—any of them.” Her voice dropped. “Then I found myself alone with Trick, and still I didn’t quite believe it.”
“How did it go? The first night, I mean.”
“Not well.” She looked away, studying the way the light filtered through the leafy canopy of a yew. “I was scared. You’d told me it would hurt.”
“I didn’t tell you that to frighten you, Kendra. Just to prepare you, so you wouldn’t be surprised. I also told you it wouldn’t hurt much, and only the first time, aye?”
Her mouth hanging open, Kendra shook her head. “No, you didn’t. You just said it would hurt.”
“I’m sure I said more.” A frown creased Cait’s forehead. “Unless…we were interrupted, weren’t we?” Her hazel eyes widened. “I meant to tell you, but we were interrupted. Jason and Colin knocked on the door.” She focused on Kendra, shading her eyes with a hand. “I’m sorry to hear you were scared and it didn’t go well, but it didn’t hurt that much, did it? And it went better for you the second time, I expect. Surely it didn’t hurt at all then.”
Kendra bit her lip. “There hasn’t been a second time. There hasn’t even been a first time.”
“What?” If possible, Cait’s eyes widened even more. “You’ve been married nearly three weeks!”
“I haven’t let him. He’s being very patient with me.”
“It seems you married a saint.” Cait shook her head disapprovingly. “Your brothers should have explained everything. Jason will hear from me about this.”
“Please, no.” Kendra felt her face heat. “He’d make fun of me all my days. What is it he failed to tell me?”
“It hurts most women at first. But not a lot, and only the once, aye? Only that first time, when your maidenhead—”
“I may have heard that word.” Kendra frowned. “But I never knew what it meant.”
“It’s a membrane, inside every female. Every virgin, that is. You could say it guards your entrance. I read once that it’s properly called a hymen.”
“Hymen is the Greek god of the wedding feast.”
“Really? How fitting.” Caithren cleared her throat. “Now, the first time you make love it is torn, and you’ll bleed—”
“I will?” Kendra asked in alarm.
“Just a little. It’s nothing to be concerned about. And you won’t bleed the next time. And it won’t hurt, either, because the maidenhead will be gone.”
Trick had been telling the truth, then. A wave of relief washed over Kendra, tempered by a stab of regret. She should have believed him.
And now she really wished she’d gone with him.
Cait knelt to inspect some bell-shaped flowers. “He must be the most patient fellow on earth,” she murmured. “The attraction between you two
