“That has nothing—”
“Of course it has. But once we find him, you will feel better, knowing he can hurt you no longer.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “We must stop taking our frustrations out on each other. That is no way to begin a life together.” He moved his lips to her cheek, feathered a kiss there, and then settled them at her ear. “You know I love you. More than life itself, more than all the world. You can do nothing to change that. Be whoever you must be. You will still be mine, and I will still adore you.”
Words that would have sounded so sweet were they not the very threat she most feared. She didn’t attempt a smile. He would see right through it anyway.
Dev managed one. It was warm, apologetic…and yet harder than flint. He straightened his arms, urging her back a step.
A second set of hands cupped her elbows, their touch sending a shiver up her spine. Dev looked over her head. “See that she rests.”
Rest. That was all anyone had let her do since Tuesday. If Slade thought for a moment she would go mildly up to her room…
His thumbs, hidden in the volume of her sleeves, made small circles against her arms that calmed her more than they should have. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Dev brushed away a curl from her cheek and then turned to stride away, confident his dictates would be obeyed.
Slade didn’t move but for that slow circling of his thumbs. By the time the door closed on Dev, she was all too aware of how close they stood. And unable to remember why she shouldn’t lean back against him.
His breath caught as she gave in, and his hands slid forward along her arms in welcome. She felt his indrawn breath release, sensed it as his head lowered down beside hers. His nose tickled her ear. “That would have been a far too easy end to things with him. And yet for a moment, I hoped…”
An echo of laughter slipped out, and with it came reason. She stepped away. And wished she hadn’t. “I was too irritated to hope.”
He wore a lopsided smile when she turned to him. “You should have slugged him. I would have paid good money to see that.”
“Slugged?”
“Yeah, you know…” He mimed delivering a blow to a chin.
Marietta blinked, grateful to have a lighthearted distraction. “ ‘Slug’ is a synonym for an uppercut?”
“Just a punch in general.” But his eyebrows came into their habitual V. “You know what an uppercut is?”
“Isaac enjoys boxing.”
He breathed a laugh. “Thanks for the warning. Did he teach you?”
“Enough that I could have slugged Dev, had I thought it wise.” Which she couldn’t imagine doing. Not when she had done such a poor job defending herself two days ago. What good did recall do if one couldn’t think when to apply it?
“Hmm.” Slade’s eyes sparkled as he swept his gaze down her.
“What?”
“Just imagining you in a boxing ring. Maybe with a pair of those newfangled gloves. Wearing breeches and—”
“And?” She laughed, though her face heated. If most boxers were like Isaac, there was no “and.” “That is enough imagination from you, I think.”
His grin eclipsed the irritation that had snapped at her heels all day. He held out a hand and motioned with his head for the door. “Sign lesson?”
“Sign lesson.” Though she shouldn’t, she slid her hand into his.
He kissed her knuckles, setting her nerves aflame, and then tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow to lead her out the side door. March was mild as a lamb today, the sun warm and bright as they stepped out. Maybe she could convince him to take her for a promenade later.
Slade halted them in the first patch of sunlight. “Just so you know…I like this new Marietta.”
She tilted her face up to the sunshine so she could blame the suffusing warmth on it. “You didn’t know the old one.”
“I saw enough of her.” His fingers trailed over hers on his arm. “I liked her too. She was intriguing, and that kind of confidence…well. But adding the depth of faith, the light of compassion—that sets you apart more, not less.”
For a second the words kissed her spirit as the sun did her face, but then the clouds rolled in again. The only thing that ever set her apart was her uselessness. Her family had always said she was capable of anything, that with her mind she could do great things.
But what things could a woman do? Any options open to her required either the support of a husband or would mean the scorn of society.
No. God should have given her memory to Stephen or Hez or Isaac instead. They could have used it to make a difference. She had never found any purpose in it beyond entertaining her friends. She had never found any purpose at all.