Love on a Midsummer Night by Christy English

Author:Christy English
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Pembroke and Arabella knew the paths along the forest well, for they had traveled them often together the summer they were courting. The summer air was warm, so Arabella allowed her shawl to fall to the crooks of her elbows, leaving her shoulders bare. She would have stripped off her kidskin gloves, but she had not brought a reticule to put them in, so she left them on.

The full moon was rising over the treetops, casting a milky light along their path. Arabella took in deep drafts of the night air, enjoying the freedom of walking in the country unencumbered. The path was lined in columbine and fennel, the scent of those flowers rising to greet her like old friends. She would never have had such freedom in her husband’s house, and after ten years of marriage, she found that she savored it.

It was so surprisingly easy to be in Pembroke’s company, almost like the peace of being alone, but infinitely better. There seemed to be no anger, no recriminations, no bitterness between them now. She knew that she must bring up that pain again and ask him about the letters she had sent. But instead, as they walked in the moonlight, Arabella pretended that they were ten years in the past, that all the years of pain and separation had never happened. She imagined that they had married and now walked this path alone as man and wife.

She knew she was a fool, but the moonlight and the mead beckoned to her, allowing both her worries and her scruples to slide away. Once they arrived again at Pembroke House, she promised herself that she would set such fantasies aside. But for now, she would live as she wished. Though reality waited for her on the other side of this forest, this was a blissful moment, an hour apart, and Arabella meant to relish it, to drink it in without spilling a drop.

She reached out and took Pembroke’s hand. His glove and hers separated them, but she could still feel the steady warmth of his touch.

Pembroke did not look down at her or speak but walked with her in silence. With the clean night air and the motion of her walking, the mead she had drunk began to burn away. She was left with a feeling of warmth and joy, but her senses had returned to her. She was grateful because she did not want to miss one moment of this night.

The spring green of the oaks and hawthorns around them was dimmed in the moonlight, turned to milky blacks and grays. Sunlight brought out the verdant greens of the land around them, but the night, with its scent of jasmine and the occasional swoop of an owl, had beauties of its own.

Arabella stopped beneath a king oak tree, the same great tree where they once had pledged themselves to each other.

She felt the ruby ring beneath the bodice of her gown warm against her flesh. She laid her hand

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