The Wife He Always Wanted by Cheryl Ann Smith Page B

that you keep some of shy Sarah in you, too. I liked my country mouse.”
    Sarah warmed beneath her cloak with the compliment and did not take offense at his choice of words. The title of country mouse had been hers when speaking of herself. And she knew he meant no insult by its usage.
    “Training will only polish my edges. My aunt did her best, but she never spent time in society either,” she said. “I lived half my life in that little cottage. It is part of me.”
    “Good.” He flicked the reins. “Too much polish ruins many an otherwise perfectly acceptable society miss.”
    They found a quiet path and weaved their way through the park. Sarah was surprised to find such an unspoiled sanctuary inside the bustling city.
    She smiled and drew in a deep breath. “You were correct. It is beautiful here.” She felt his attention on her and lifted her gaze. He was not admiring the sunrise but looking at her with something akin to curiosity in his eyes.
    Under his attention, she clasped her gloved hands together to keep them from trembling as her confidence slipped away.
    “London is home to several parks,” he said softly. “We can visit them all if you’d like.”
    “I’d like that very much,” she replied. Her charming husband had returned. “I cannot believe how much I miss open fields and cows grazing unfettered across the landscape.”
    He flicked the reins again. “I cannot promise you cows, but I hope you find London satisfactory. I know it can be crowded and loud, but it does have its amusements.”
    “I do enjoy the city, though it takes some getting used to.” She watched a large bird fly across the path. “Remember, I was born here. London is part of my history.”
    Gabriel nodded. “Excellent. I want you to be happy, Sarah.”
    They fell into a companionable silence while she considered her answer. She was happy with some parts of her life and not so certain about others, Gabriel being first on that list. But she did have hope.
    “I desire the same.” She met his eyes. “For both of us.”
    Gabriel pulled the horse to a stop beneath a large oak tree. He set the brake and half turned in the seat to face her. Muted sunlight danced between the leaves.
    He was so very close. So very handsome.
    Had they been courting, Sarah might have found the moment romantic. Lud, it
was
romantic.
    “Is that the Serpentine?” she asked, her voice husky as she glanced toward the river to collect herself.
    “It is,” Gabriel said, his leg shifting slightly until it brushed her thigh. The contact, whether intentional or accidental, caused her to tense. The uncertainty of her feelings for him warred with the puzzling way her body reacted to his touch. It was as if she were two Sarahs. Neither was entirely comfortable with this one husband.
    “Have I told you how fetching you are this morning?” He did not look down at her cream cotton day dress nor her stylish new matching hat. No, he was staring at her mouth.
    “You have not,” she said, breathless. He leaned forward and she did the same. He was going to kiss her!
    “Ho, Harrington!” The voice startled them apart. Both Gabriel and Sarah twisted to see a man and woman come up behind them on the path. The pair was seated atop a set of fine horses.
    “Who is it?” Sarah whispered.
    “The Duke and Duchess Stanfield.”
    Sarah had no time to register the names when the couple pulled to a stop beside the carriage. Up close, they were a handsome couple. The duchess’s amber eyes bespoke her identity. She was somehow related to Noelle, and a Harrington.
    “Your Graces.” Gabriel tipped his hat to the duchess, before indicating the duke. “It has been a long time, Your Grace.”
    “It’s been years, Harrington,” His Grace replied. Both the duke and duchess glanced at Sarah. They were not surprised to see her with Gabriel. Noelle most likely had told them all about her and how she and Gabriel met and married.
    Gabriel introduced them.
    “My pleasure, Your