‘The roses are lovely,’ Regina whispered. She was staring outside at the wide stone terrace that led down into a walled garden with a fountain in the centre. His mother had planted the roses that climbed upon one of the walls, while other rosebushes lined the opposite terrace.
‘My mother designed it.’ It had been her labour of love, and he remembered exploring the gardens as a lad while she clipped and trimmed the bushes. There had always been roses in each of the rooms—red, pink, yellow, and white.
‘Perhaps I could help your gardener take care of them,’ she offered. ‘I do love roses.’
‘If you want to.’ Their conversation was interrupted when the footman brought tea and refreshments. The housekeeper, Mrs Hughes, greeted them with enthusiasm and told Regina, ‘I’ve arranged for Evina to tend your room. She can serve as your maid until yours arrives.’
‘Thank you,’ Regina said.
Before the housekeeper could leave, she asked, ‘Will you be celebrating another wedding with us, my lady? We would dearly love to host a cèilidh and share in your happiness. I would be glad to make all the arrangements.’
Regina glanced at Dalton with a doubtful expression. He interrupted and said, ‘Mrs Hughes, there is no need to worry about that just yet. We’ve only just arrived in Scotland.’
The housekeeper appeared disappointed, but she nodded as she departed the room.
Dalton poured her a cup of tea and gave her a sandwich. Time to see if his experiment would bear fruit. ‘Was I wrong to say it’s too soon?’
Regina shook her head. ‘No, you’re right. We shouldn’t get their hopes up.’ Even so, there was a faint trace of confusion on her face.
‘You did want to merely be a house guest, yes?’ He took a sip of his tea, drinking it black.
‘Well, yes. If you think that’s possible.’ Again, her eyes held concern. ‘But I am aware that the servants will think that I...that we—’
‘That we’ve consummated the marriage,’ he finished.
Her face coloured, and she nodded. ‘Camford, what exactly do you expect from me while I’m here?’
He set down his teacup and rested his wrists upon his knees. For a moment, he studied her, drinking in her beauty. In spite of the rumpled wedding gown and her hair falling down from her bonnet, he desired her.
‘I want to protect you,’ he said quietly. ‘We may not be legally wedded, but I don’t want anyone speaking idle words after we’ve spent days travelling together. And I agree that you do need more time to decide what you want.’ He rose from his chair and drew closer. Though there was room to sit beside her, he remained standing. She had to tilt her head up to look at him.
‘Y-you’re right,’ she answered. ‘I feel as if we hardly know each other, and I don’t want to be forced into a marriage. If I ever marry, I want to feel a sense of happiness. I want the wedding I should have had.’
‘You want to be courted,’ he predicted.
‘Not exactly,’ she said, nibbling at a sandwich. ‘What I want is to have choices. I agreed to marry Lachlan because it was what my father wanted. And now, I want to feel as if I can live my own life.’
He could understand her intense need for freedom. Nothing was worse than being forced into a life you didn’t want. He had never wanted to be a viscount, much less an earl one day. Though it was a title most men desired, he hadn’t wanted it at the cost of his brother’s life. If he could bring Brandon back and surrender everything, he would do so without hesitation. His parents had never recovered from the death of their son, and Dalton knew he couldn’t ever fill that role. He’d grown accustomed to not being enough.
He just wanted to be enough for Regina. And if that meant waiting, if it meant giving her the time she needed to feel something more for him, he intended to try.
Regina stood and faced him. She was so near, he could inhale the scent of her skin. More than anything, he wanted to steal another kiss, to make her crave him as badly as he wanted her. It took every ounce of his control to remain motionless.
‘I just need time, Dalton,’ she murmured. ‘For so long, I expected to wed Lachlan. I feel as if you and I are still strangers.’
He’d thought they were friends, but it bothered him to realise that she hadn’t considered it a true friendship. She really did see him in the same light as any other gentleman.
She reached out to take his hands in hers, and the sudden move made it that much harder not to touch her. ‘Is that all right?’
He barely managed a nod. ‘But there is something I want, in return.’
‘What is that?’
‘A chance,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t close yourself away from me.’
Her cheeks grew rosy, and she didn’t answer at first. Then she raised her blue eyes to his.
‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘But Dalton—don’t ask me to give more than I can.’
Gently, he squeezed her hands and was rewarded when she inhaled with a slight sigh. He murmured, ‘One day, I hope you will trust me with your secrets.’
Regina spent the day with Dalton, but all the while, it felt as if he were chiselling her defences away. The gentle touch of his hands on hers had evoked strong feelings she didn’t understand. He had hardly done anything, but somehow he’d begun breaking down the invisible walls that had guarded her for so long. She didn’t know how to keep him at a distance...nor was she certain she wanted to.
Gone was the London gentleman she’d known for so many years, and in his place was a handsome Highlander. Dalton had taken her to the gardens, as promised, leading her to the roses.
‘Choose, Regina,’ he’d said. She selected a golden yellow
