An Unpracticed Heart

Chapter Twenty

The sun broke through the thick cover of clouds as Charlotte stepped outside. She raised her hand to her brow, eyes squinting against the sudden onslaught of daylight. Her other hand went to the edges of her shawl, her fingers tightening on the knitted threads as a thought crossed her mind that perhaps she wouldn't need the extra garment after all. But before she could wonder if it would be better to return to the house and exchange the shawl for a bonnet to keep the sun out of her eyes, the clouds sealed over again, shutting out the brief burst of illumination that had almost convinced her it was indeed summer.

"Well, then." She smiled anyway, a laugh bubbling up within her as she abandoned the gravelled path for the lawn. The grass was still wet, the hem of her skirt dark with moisture before she'd gone more than fifty paces. A little further and the mist cleared enough that she could make out a stone wall marking the edge of a garden, a garden bordered with white and pink roses that were only a few days away from full bloom.

She heard the sounds of digging, of the blade of a shovel striking hard, rocky soil, before the breadth of Hartley's shoulders came into view. He stood with his back to her, his head bent forward over his task, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows, giving her a glimpse of bare forearms as he propped the shovel against the stone wall and passed his hand over the back of his neck.

If he was aware of her approach, he gave no sign of it. She continued on, towards the narrow opening in the wall, her hand passing over the newly-laid stones replacing the ones that had crumbled beneath years of northern weather. Hartley finally turned as she came close enough to touch him, cupping his elbow before she slid her fingers across the dusting of blond hair on his arm.

"Did I forget the time again?"

Her touch continued its progress along the length of his forearm until she reached his hand, her fingers lacing with his own. His skin had gained callouses over the last two months since their return to Ellesferth, and if she were to look over his nails, no doubt she'd find them rimmed with a layer of dirt nothing less than a long soak in a tub of hot water would succeed in removing.

"Dinner is nearly ready." She rose up to the balls of her feet and kissed his jaw. He'd neglected to shave that morning, and she found she rather enjoyed the tickle of his beard against her lips. "My aunt is busy rampaging around the house because Maggie added too much starch to the tablecloths and now they won't droop properly over the edge of the table, but apart from that..."

"Are we eating in the dining room, then?" He reached for the shovel but instead of returning to his digging, continued to survey the soil he'd just overturned along the base of the wall. "Is Mrs. Faraday trying to be difficult about us eating in the kitchen again?"

Charlotte shook her head. "It's Mr. Ballard, remember? He's due to arrive any minute. She wants to make a to-do about it, I think, merely because we've given her nothing to harass the staff about for too long."

"Ah, so she's restless." He pushed the tip of the shovel into the soft, damp ground. "It's a feeling I can understand."

Charlotte easily removed his hand from the shovel and returned it to its place against the wall before she began to lead him towards the house. "The roses can wait. You need to eat."

A grumble erupted from the back of his throat, but she realized it was all a ruse when he tugged on her hand and pulled her towards him. She saw his smile before he kissed her, before his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and a laugh nearer to a growl rumbled inside his chest. A step backwards and she felt the edge of the wall press against the backs of her thighs, while Hartley's arms circled more tightly around her.

"No," she said, and dropped a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before she slid her hands up between them and pushed gently on his chest. It was tempting, she thought as she looked back towards the house, half-hidden in the low, drifting clouds that still struggled to clear. Tempting to stay out here for a few minutes longer, to disappear into one of the recently rebuilt outbuildings, to put Mrs. Faraday into a tizzy because they hadn't returned in time for the meal...