“Miss Leavold.”
I turned, my heart pounding, both exhilarated and slightly terrified that my wish had been fulfilled. “I was just admiring your beautiful gardens.”
“I know. I was just admiring the woman admiring my gardens.” His eyes took in my wet hair, my rumpled dress, my lack of corset. “You went swimming again.”
I raised my chin, not intending on apologizing. Surely it harmed nothing to swim in such a remote pool? And surely my time and activity wasn’t beholden to anything here? It hadn’t been at home.
“Let me give you a tour,” he said, changing the subject and his tone abruptly. He clasped his hands behind his back and started walking, and I followed, unable to keep myself from noticing the way his tailored jacket highlighted his wide shoulders and narrow hips.
We walked through a low maze, past a large fountain and into a small side lawn set with a temple folly, all surrounded by a verdant circle of trees. The rainclouds had encroached faster than I had earlier guessed; a dark line of shadow bisected the lawn as the clouds rolled overhead.
“Are you going to say anything?” I asked.
He looked at me in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I believe it is traditional when giving a tour to speak a little on the subject. You might, perhaps, tell me when this folly was built or which one of your ancestors built it?”
“Are you really so fascinated with this ruin?”
No. I just want to have you all to myself. I want you to touch me again.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He sighed. “Fine. Let’s examine it closer.”
The temple was circular, green-roofed, and without walls, completely open to the world. Unlike most follies, this one had a circle of low stone benches inside, making it into a pretty retreat. I ran past Mr. Markham to mount the steps to the temple and clamber on to them, for no other reason than that I wanted to.
He watched me with some amusement. “You are something apart, Miss Leavold.”
I jumped down, landing as lightly as a cat. “So you tell me.”
The wind picked up for a moment, tossing the leafy branches into a rustling susurrus, and then the rain began, a slow, steady drizzle.
“We should get back to the house,” I suggested, gathering my skirts to make a run for it.
“Nonsense. We’ll get soaked.”
“So?”
The rain intensified, turning from a light and clinging mist into an opaque curtain of silver. Mr. Markham took my hand and led me into the center of the small temple, where the roof protected us from the worst of the downpour, although gusts of wind still whipped droplets onto our damp clothes and hair.
“We’ll wait it out,” he said firmly. “It won’t last long.”
I looked longingly out—running through a deluge like that looked like an enlivening adventure—but then when I looked back at Mr. Markham, my heart stuttered and I realized that there was no place I would rather be. Especially when he was looking at me the way he was now, with darkly green eyes and a mouth that looked nothing so much as hungry.
“Sit, Miss Leavold.”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
I sat, not knowing why and also not knowing why I found it so easy to obey when I was so unused to obeying the whims of anyone other than myself. He knelt in front of my knees.
“You have made a mistake,” he said. “You’ve let yourself be alone with me.”
“How do you know that wasn’t my plan all along? You were the one who promised not to touch me. I never promised not to touch you.” And I ran my thumb across his lower lip. It was soft and slightly wet from the rain.
He bit it and the sensation went straight to my core. I took in a breath.
