“Not at all.” Yes, she’s beautiful.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I’ve just put the kettle on to boil.” Her hands went to her unbound hair. She hadn’t bothered to do it up in its usual prim bun, so it fell long and loose down her back, the ends curling about her hips. “Please do have a seat. Or browse among the bookshelves. I’ll only be a moment.”
She darted behind the curtain and returned less than a minute later with those long, silken strands a distant memory. She was once more the prim bookshop owner, her hair neatly tucked in a bun at the nape of her slender neck.
Well, she didn’t look prim. Just achingly soft and splendid. She couldn’t hide the beauty of her face or her perfect body which was covered from neck to toe by her woolen gown. It was of good quality merino wool that draped gently over her curves. The dark green fabric somehow highlighted the green of her eyes.
Was he mistaken, or did her eyes seem to sparkle?
“The snow has stopped for now,” he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “But I expect it will start up again soon. Are you still well stocked?” He glanced out the window toward the sky. “We’re due for another big snowfall today.”
She was looking at him, but startled as the kettle suddenly whistled. She left his side to run to the stove and remove the kettle from the heat. She poured a cup of tea for each of them and returned with them in hand. “Would you care for cream? Sugar?”
“No, Felicity. This is perfect.”
They sat at the corner table in the bookshop, drifting into an amiable silence. But it only lasted for a few moments before she began to fuss, obviously unsettled to be alone with him even though there was nothing improper about it.
She’d turned her sign to mark her shop as open. Anyone could have walked in on them and would have seen nothing but the owner and her customer having tea. Indeed, anyone could have peered in through the window and found them merely sitting at the table and chatting. “Make yourself comfortable, Angus. I’ll hang up your coat.”
He hadn’t taken it off yet. He hadn’t planned on staying beyond a quick greeting. But he was seated now, and the thought of leaving Felicity’s side was not at all pleasing to him.
He removed his coat and scarf, tossing them on the empty chair beside him and staying her hand when she was about to rise in order to hang them on the pegs beside the fireplace. “My coat and scarf are fine right here. How was your evening?”
“I’ve made good progress on my gown. You know, the one I plan to wear for the Christmas party. The style wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared it would be.”
“You worked on it last night?”
She nodded.
He eyed her casually, although there was nothing casual about the desire she ignited in him. “There can’t be much to do. You haven’t changed since the day you arrived here. How long has it been?”
“Too many years to count.” She winced. “Don’t remind me. I was young and hopeful back then.”
He chuckled. “And I had no gray hair.”
She rested her hands on the table, one on each side of her teacup. “One or two gray hairs don’t count. They make you look distinguished, that’s all. And don’t you dare say you’re getting old, because if you are, then I must be as well. You’re only a few years ahead of me. Six years, to be precise. I’m twenty-nine now.”
“Which makes me a young and hale thirty-five.” Lord, she was right. Where had the time gone?
Her smile suddenly faltered. “Oh, Angus. I thought I’d be married and have children by now.”
He leaned forward and placed a hand over hers. “You’ve had offers, Felicity. There will be others. Surely you know how beautiful you are.” Hell, he shouldn’t have said that. “Why did you turn those men down?”
She shook her head and moaned lightly. “I didn’t love them. They were nice men, I won’t deny it. But I never wanted to marry merely for the sake of convenience. Shouldn’t there be more?”
He squeezed her hand. “Yes, for someone like you.”
Her laughter sounded wistful. “Someone foolishly romantic?”
“There’s nothing foolish about holding out for love.” Had he been doing the same and simply not realized it? He’d always been in love with Felicity, but to marry her and have his family get their talons into her? He’d never wanted that. And yet, he’d also deprived both of them of happiness by staying away from her. Why hadn’t he ever done something about it? He had the ring burning a hole in his pocket. What was he waiting for? “Love is a good thing.”
“No, it’s quite frustrating,” she said with an ache to her voice. “It crushes all good sense. I’m practical in all other aspects of my life, so why can’t I be practical in this?”
“Because the best sort of love is the one that catches you off guard. It is illogical, unreasonable, and never practical. It is a maelstrom that tosses you upside down and inside out and threatens to swallow you up.”
She laughed again, but he saw that she was struggling to hold back tears. “Have you ever been in love, Angus?”
Yes, with you. Always. Forever.
But he wasn’t about to confess it now.
His plan had been to ride up to his home in Scotland, see how much of a wreck his family had made of their holdings, and then return to Felicity.
“I’ve been purposely avoiding it for most of my life,” he said instead. He still held her hand, unwilling to let go of it. But he held it gently so she could slip out of his grasp if she wished.
She tipped her head up and regarded him with obvious confusion. “Why avoid it? I’m quite the opposite. I’ve longed for it, hoped for it all the while I grew up in the orphanage. So you see, I cannot marry a man I do not love. And I’m starting to worry he will never come along. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.”
Nor did he, but the letter he received two weeks ago was going to change everything. “Is there anyone you’ve cared for enough to marry?”
She nodded.
Her admission surprised him. He didn’t like that she’d felt something for another man. He suddenly grew possessive, wanted to cut this man to ribbons. It was an odd feeling to be jealous. Yes, that’s what he was. It was his own fault.
He’d always liked Felicity…no, loved Felicity, but had no right to feel anything when he’d never declared himself to her. Things were different now. He only hoped he wasn’t too late. “Aren’t you going to tell me who it is? You know I will keep it in confidence.”
“No, it’s too personal.” She was staring into her tea, an intensely pained stare, and refusing to look at him.
In truth, this conversation was not one they should be having. But the thought of Felicity in love with another man had his gut twisted into knots. “Is it the vicar?”
She gazed at him in surprise, her kissable mouth rounded in a perfect O. “No, why would you think… I suppose because all the women in town melt at the sight of him. He is handsome. But he isn’t the one. He’s never been.”
That eased his mind, until another thought crossed his mind. “Is the man married?”
She gasped. “Certainly not! How could you think I would–”