Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [57]
Perhaps too pleasantly.
He immediately dismissed the thought. He found this time pleasant because it was an oasis in the turbulence surrounding him. No doubt he would grow bored if it extended for very much longer. After all, spending a few hours each day with Thea could not endanger her. The harm had already been done at the mulberry grove.
He was making excuses, he realized in disgust, when excuses were not necessary. So he took pleasure from these hours. It was no sin to enjoy a woman’s mind instead of her body.
Though he would like to enjoy the body too.
He quickly veered away from that pit. He could not sit here in comfort if he dwelt on what he would like to do to Thea’s body. He had tried to subdue his responses as he had in the Order, but it was different now that he was once more accustomed to taking pleasure where he found it. Being forced for hours to sit across a table from a young woman with breasts he remembered as being full and beautifully—
Don’t think of them. Think of her face, think of her wit, think of her smile. None of those were forbidden to him and brought their own pleasure.
She looked up suddenly. “You have a most peculiar expression. What are you thinking?”
He feigned a yawn. “That it’s too fine a day to be forced into company with a mere woman. Can you not hurry?”
“What are you doing out here?”
Thea looked up to see Ware standing above her. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and poured more water at the base of the young tree. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to keep these trees alive.”
He frowned. “You didn’t come to the hall this morning.”
“Because I was in the stable gathering horse droppings and then out here spreading them underneath the trees.” She made a face. “I would almost have rather been working on the account books.”
“I thought Jasmine was helping you with the trees.”
“She has been a great help, but she has other duties.”
“Abdul could have assigned a man to do it.”
“I have plenty of time. I’m used to doing such tasks myself.” She carried the water bucket to the next tree. “And I like to be busy. I miss my work.” She poured water. “Besides, the accounting is almost all corrected. In a few days I’ll be finished.”
“You will?” His frown deepened.
“It’s taken long enough. Over three weeks. I’m certain you’ll be as grateful as I am. You’ll no longer have to be glued to that chair answering my questions.”
“Very grateful.” He was silent, watching her. “Will these trees live?”
“I think they will. If there’s not a bad storm to uproot them.”
“You like working with the earth.”
She nodded. “Growing things makes me feel…” She shrugged. “I like to know these trees may be here long after I’m gone. Do you know it’s said that some trees live hundreds of years?”
“I never thought about it. I’ve been too busy staying alive to worry about trees.” He ran his fingers over the rough bark. “But I, too, believe that it’s important for life to go on. Perhaps there is even life after death.”
She remembered what he had said about his father sending him from Scotland to preserve their family line. “But God assures us this is so. Do you doubt that if we are good, we go to heaven?”
“But what is good? The Pope says that it’s good to slay, if it’s done in the name of the Church.” He thoughtfully stroked the trunk. “If that’s true, then I must be the most Christian of men, for I slew more than any of my brothers when I was in the order.” He moved his shoulders as if throwing off a burden. “Listen to me. I sound like Kadar. He’s always questioning even when there are no answers.”
“A terrible fault,” she murmured sarcastically. “May heaven forbid