“You hugged your horse.”
She ran a hand down Rhiannon’s neck. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I do either. Would it be enough to say I wanted you to be that happy to see me? That I wanted that bright joy directed at me?”
He’d been jealous of her horse? She bit her lip to keep from grinning. She did not want him to think she was laughing at him. Nor did she want him to think kissing strange men was how she normally got out of scrapes. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Hugged your horse?” He chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“No, the . . . the tricking and the . . .” She waved a hand toward his face. “The kissing.” She sighed. “I’m not sure why I did it yesterday. I couldn’t stop myself—not from talking, not from wanting to tell you more than I should have, not from kissing you. None of it was planned.”
“Sophia.”
“I’m glad you aren’t angry at me. That is, you don’t seem angry. At least not at me.” She didn’t mind if he was angry at other people, particularly those who were deliberately making his life difficult. “I’ll try not to do anything to upset you again. I mean, if you were upset. I don’t really know. I can’t read you very well.”
“Sophia?”
“Yes?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
He nodded, relaxing further against the wall, with a small, real smile on his lips.
“I’m very good at rambling. I’m not very good at stopping.”
He watched her intently but didn’t move. “I’ve noticed.”
Sophia started shaking again, but this time for an entirely different reason. Gone were the fears over apologizing, over disappointing him. Instead, she was terrified she would misunderstand him. Was he inviting her to kiss him again?
Hesitantly, she reached up to cup his cheek. He slid his hand up her free arm until he was copying her position, bracing her cheek with his palm.
She went up on her toes, his face low enough from his leaning against the wall that she didn’t have to pull him down. This time the kiss was slow and sweet, lighter than the first one they’d shared.
And most definitely shorter as he broke the contact and stepped away, his face once more unreadable.
Had it been bad? Had he changed his mind?
“They’ll have dinner ready at the house.” He stepped backward until he was out of the stall. “Are you hungry?”
Dazed, she nodded. He gestured for her to precede him, and she walked outside and toward the house. Lord Trent and Lady Adelaide were seated on the veranda.
“Sophia?” he asked as they crossed the manicured lawn.
“Yes?”
“It’s Aaron. But maybe only in private, hmm?”
She was so busy grinning as they climbed the veranda steps that she forgot to be afraid.
Twenty-Seven
Aaron hadn’t meant to stay for dinner, but even he knew he couldn’t dump Sophia on the veranda and leave after sharing that kiss with her in the stable. Especially after giving her permission to use his name.
He had to stay away from her and that horse in confined spaces. Something about the way she cared for Rhiannon like she was family ripped through every defense he had. She’d gotten so much pleasure out of the idea that she’d get to ride Rhiannon again. When was the last time he’d taken that much pleasure in something so small?
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wanted that joy aimed at himself. Somewhere along the way, everything in his life had become carefully guarded. Even his blunt acknowledgment of his illegitimacy was designed to keep distance between him and other people. Never had he felt delight as strongly as she experienced her happiness, and he’d wanted a glimmer of that splendor for himself.
“Adelaide, I think this is the year we venture out to the courses,” Trent said as they passed potatoes around the table.
“You don’t normally attend?” Sophia asked.
“Not to watch the races.” Trent leaned back in his chair. “I often ride over on race day to get a sweet bun from the baker walking through the crowd. You must try one. Best sweet buns in the world.”
Sophia grinned. “I’ll have to remember that.”
Aaron shouldn’t have worried about Sophia feeling comfortable enough to relax and talk to her hosts. Getting people to talk was Trent’s specialty. Even Aaron said unintended things around the man.
Trent had taken one look at Sophia and asked if she’d be more comfortable if he and Adelaide rolled about in the hearth before dinner. It was a ludicrous statement that no one should have been able to say without being utterly insulting, but Trent had managed.
It had unleashed the woman he’d encountered on their rides—charming, engaging, personable. That she’d felt obliged to repress that light around him made him feel like a boor. No longer. Even if he was uncomfortable, he’d make sure she felt free to be herself.
Was this giddy tingle and irrational absurdity what Graham and Oliver had endured when they’d met the women who would be their wives? Hudson had been a blind fool when he’d first met Bianca, but perhaps he’d experienced this and not identified it until later?
What should he do about it? If this was the beginning of falling in love, shouldn’t Aaron find a way to halt the process? He’d known her a week. While he couldn’t deny he enjoyed kissing her, nothing that grew in such a short timespan should be allowed to overthrow thirty-two years of other plans.
Sophia’s animated face flew from emotion to emotion as she told a story about a baker trading fresh bread in exchange for getting his child a ride on Rhiannon’s back. The silly story about the child’s antics should have inspired little more than a roll of Aaron’s eyes, but the way she told it inspired a smile. She talked so much that the conversation flowed easily around him without excluding him, despite his lack of participation.
This comfortable familiarity would get in the way of sound thinking if he experienced too much of it. He needed to limit his exposure until he knew what to do.
He didn’t want to. When was the last time he’d felt no need to prevaricate? Whenever it was, the moment had certainly included Oliver and Graham, neither of whom was at this table.
It was even possible that this strange feeling swirling in his gut was him being . . . happy.
DINNER HAD BEEN cleared by the time Jonas arrived, so he retreated to the kitchen to eat. Whether by luck or design, he didn’t reappear before Aaron took his leave. Sophia alone escorted him out to the veranda.
He’d invited a second kiss, given her permission to use his name. The wonder of it all made her forget how to use her voice.
“You’d no end of stories at the dinner table and now you go mum?”
She blinked up at him, mesmerized by the easy smile. It barely tilted up at the corners, but the way his eyes crinkled made it much more real. He’d done nothing at dinner but eat. What had caused such a change in him?
“I’m afraid I don’t know what to say.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked out toward the stable. “That’s the beauty of it, Sophia. When everything is good with me, you don’t have to say anything at all.” He brought his dark gaze back to her, stealing her breath with its intensity. “But if there’s something you want to say, know that I want to hear it, even if I’m not talking back.”