Read Online Tempting Mr. Weatherstone: A Wallflower Wedding Novella (Originally Appeared in the E-Book Anthology FIVE GOLDEN RINGS) by Vivienne Lorret - Free Book Online
Authors: Vivienne Lorret
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unwell?” Truly, she’d never seen him like this.
“No,” he said after a moment, then appeared to think on it, and again replied, “No.”
Without thinking, she went to him, lifting a hand to touch his face to see if he felt overly warm. But like before, he seized her wrist. “No,” he said again, sterner this time.
She pulled back as if he’d slapped her. “Am I not allowed to display my concern?”
He lowered his head on an exhale and raked his hand through his hair. “Of course. And you have. I know you care for me, Pen.”
A feeling of dread washed over her. Suddenly, she understood, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want the terrible understanding to fully form because she feared her heart could not take it. Butterflies were fragile creatures.
“Care for you?” She loved him. She’d always loved him. It had simply taken most of her life to realize how much her happiness depended on him. “Surely, since you know practically everything about me, you would know my feelings better by now.”
He looked nervous, his eyes darting to the closed doors on either side of them. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for her to follow him to the end of the hall near the window that overlooked the stables.
“First of all,” he began quietly, his troubled expression turning to resolve, “I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you yesterday morning. I was in a panic and overwrought.”
“No, you were angry,” she corrected. “You thought I was simply being foolish.”
“Yes, well . . . there’s that.” He locked his grave gaze with hers. “You put yourself in danger, and I didn’t know how to react. If I hadn’t been up all night . . . Hadn’t chanced to look out the window to see you leave on your foolish—” He stopped and drew in an unsteady breath. “When I finally saw you, I wanted to shake you. Try to shake some sense into you.”
She blanched, hating where this conversation was going, but she had to ask. “What stopped you?”
“I couldn’t hurt you, Pen. And yet, I was so . . . overwrought that I simply reacted.” He raked a hand through his hair again and paced in the small space in front of her. “In the light of things now, I realize my actions were unconscionable, on an equal footing with my first impulse.”
The kiss. The perfect, magical, passionate kiss that transformed her life had happened solely because he couldn’t rationalize shaking her?
Penelope’s head spun, her world tilting. She wanted to step back and lean against the wall for support, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She wanted to close her eyes with the hope that if she didn’t look at him, his words wouldn’t hurt as much, but her gaze remained fixed on him.
He stopped in front of her, his expression full of contrition, his arms locked at his sides. “It was a most unfortunate incident, and I do hope you’ll forgive me. I think you know, my life would never be the same without you,” he added, almost inaudibly.
She swallowed against a sob that was building in the back of her throat. “The same?”
“Our family dinners. Our chats in my study. Surely, you must also regard those moments with fondness.” He attempted a smile, but it did not reach his apologetic eyes. “We keep each other sane, you and I.”
Sane? She was feeling anything but sane at the moment. She wanted to crawl out of her skin and be anywhere else.
“I would hate for my lapse in decorum to risk that.”
“Lapse in—” Her heart sank, but she refused to allow him to notice. “No, of course you would not. Everything must remain the same.”
Ethan must not have heard the censure in her statement because he nodded. “Then, if you’ll excuse me, I bid you good night.”
Without waiting for her response, he turned sharply on his heel and walked down the hall, disappearing into the shadow of the stairway.
She stared at the vacancy he left long after the echoes of his footsteps died away. For
“No,” he said after a moment, then appeared to think on it, and again replied, “No.”
Without thinking, she went to him, lifting a hand to touch his face to see if he felt overly warm. But like before, he seized her wrist. “No,” he said again, sterner this time.
She pulled back as if he’d slapped her. “Am I not allowed to display my concern?”
He lowered his head on an exhale and raked his hand through his hair. “Of course. And you have. I know you care for me, Pen.”
A feeling of dread washed over her. Suddenly, she understood, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want the terrible understanding to fully form because she feared her heart could not take it. Butterflies were fragile creatures.
“Care for you?” She loved him. She’d always loved him. It had simply taken most of her life to realize how much her happiness depended on him. “Surely, since you know practically everything about me, you would know my feelings better by now.”
He looked nervous, his eyes darting to the closed doors on either side of them. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for her to follow him to the end of the hall near the window that overlooked the stables.
“First of all,” he began quietly, his troubled expression turning to resolve, “I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you yesterday morning. I was in a panic and overwrought.”
“No, you were angry,” she corrected. “You thought I was simply being foolish.”
“Yes, well . . . there’s that.” He locked his grave gaze with hers. “You put yourself in danger, and I didn’t know how to react. If I hadn’t been up all night . . . Hadn’t chanced to look out the window to see you leave on your foolish—” He stopped and drew in an unsteady breath. “When I finally saw you, I wanted to shake you. Try to shake some sense into you.”
She blanched, hating where this conversation was going, but she had to ask. “What stopped you?”
“I couldn’t hurt you, Pen. And yet, I was so . . . overwrought that I simply reacted.” He raked a hand through his hair again and paced in the small space in front of her. “In the light of things now, I realize my actions were unconscionable, on an equal footing with my first impulse.”
The kiss. The perfect, magical, passionate kiss that transformed her life had happened solely because he couldn’t rationalize shaking her?
Penelope’s head spun, her world tilting. She wanted to step back and lean against the wall for support, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She wanted to close her eyes with the hope that if she didn’t look at him, his words wouldn’t hurt as much, but her gaze remained fixed on him.
He stopped in front of her, his expression full of contrition, his arms locked at his sides. “It was a most unfortunate incident, and I do hope you’ll forgive me. I think you know, my life would never be the same without you,” he added, almost inaudibly.
She swallowed against a sob that was building in the back of her throat. “The same?”
“Our family dinners. Our chats in my study. Surely, you must also regard those moments with fondness.” He attempted a smile, but it did not reach his apologetic eyes. “We keep each other sane, you and I.”
Sane? She was feeling anything but sane at the moment. She wanted to crawl out of her skin and be anywhere else.
“I would hate for my lapse in decorum to risk that.”
“Lapse in—” Her heart sank, but she refused to allow him to notice. “No, of course you would not. Everything must remain the same.”
Ethan must not have heard the censure in her statement because he nodded. “Then, if you’ll excuse me, I bid you good night.”
Without waiting for her response, he turned sharply on his heel and walked down the hall, disappearing into the shadow of the stairway.
She stared at the vacancy he left long after the echoes of his footsteps died away. For
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