Blissfully unaware of all that, Elizabeth continued to love him without reservation or guile, and as she grew more certain of his love, she became more confident and more enchanting to Ian. On those occasions when she saw his expression become inexplicably grim, she teased him or kissed him, and, if those ploys failed, she presented him with little gifts-a flower arrangement from Havenhurst's gardens, a single rose that she stuck behind his ear, or left upon his pillow. "Shall I have to resort to buying you a jewel to make you smile, my lord?" she joked one day three months after they were married. "I understand that is how it is done when a lover begins to act distracted."
To Elizabeth's surprise, her remark made him snatch her into his arms in a suffocating embrace. "I am losing interest in you, if that's what you're suggesting," he told her.
Elizabeth leaned back in his arms, surprised by the unwarranted force of his declaration, and continued to tease. "You're quite certain?"
"Positive."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" she asked in a voice of mock severity.
"I would never lie to you," Ian said gravely, but then he realized that by withholding the truth from her, he was, in effect, deceiving her, which in turn, amounted to little less than lying outright.
Elizabeth knew something was bothering him, and that as time passed, it was bothering him with increasing frequency, but she never dreamed she was even remotely the cause of his silences or preoccupation. She thought of Robert often, but not since the day of her marriage had she permitted herself to think of Mr. Wordsworth's accusations, not even for an instant. In the first place, she couldn't bear it; in the second, she no longer believed there was the slightest possibility he was right.
"I have to go to Havenhurst tomorrow," she said reluctantly when Ian finally let her go. "The masons have started on the house and bridge, and the irrigation work has begun. If I spend the night, though, I shouldn't have to go back for at least a fornight."
"I'll miss you," he said quietly, but there was no trace of resentment in his voice, nor did he attempt to persuade her to postpone the trip. He was keeping to his bargain with the integrity that Elizabeth particularly admired in him.
"Not," she whispered, kissing the side of his mouth, "as much as I'll miss you.
To Elizabeth's surprise, her remark made him snatch her into his arms in a suffocating embrace. "I am losing interest in you, if that's what you're suggesting," he told her.
Elizabeth leaned back in his arms, surprised by the unwarranted force of his declaration, and continued to tease. "You're quite certain?"
"Positive."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" she asked in a voice of mock severity.
"I would never lie to you," Ian said gravely, but then he realized that by withholding the truth from her, he was, in effect, deceiving her, which in turn, amounted to little less than lying outright.
Elizabeth knew something was bothering him, and that as time passed, it was bothering him with increasing frequency, but she never dreamed she was even remotely the cause of his silences or preoccupation. She thought of Robert often, but not since the day of her marriage had she permitted herself to think of Mr. Wordsworth's accusations, not even for an instant. In the first place, she couldn't bear it; in the second, she no longer believed there was the slightest possibility he was right.
"I have to go to Havenhurst tomorrow," she said reluctantly when Ian finally let her go. "The masons have started on the house and bridge, and the irrigation work has begun. If I spend the night, though, I shouldn't have to go back for at least a fornight."
"I'll miss you," he said quietly, but there was no trace of resentment in his voice, nor did he attempt to persuade her to postpone the trip. He was keeping to his bargain with the integrity that Elizabeth particularly admired in him.
"Not," she whispered, kissing the side of his mouth, "as much as I'll miss you.
( Judith McNaught )
[ Almost Heaven ]
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