Elize appeared at the doorjamb, her face stern beneath her security officer cap. “There is a visitor for you, madame, a man who says his name is Blackstone.”
The sound of his name settled hotly in her belly. “Yes,” she said. “I wish to receive him.”
Elize contemplated her. “Monsieur is keen to see you at once. Here.”
She could only nod.
When he entered, solemn and with his hat under his arm, the classroom vanished like Scottish hills into mist. She felt lifted from her own body as she watched him approach.
He halted at a respectful distance. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackstone.”
His clothes were dusty. His dark hair was curling into his collar.
“Lucian.” It came out as a croak.
He stepped closer, and she smelled horse and travel, but mostly she smelled everything she loved the most, and her knees trembled.
“I apologize for my appearance,” he said. His gaze moved over her face, his gray eyes appraising. “You look very well.”
So did he, more handsome than in her dreams. But this was real. He was here.
He took in the formulas on the blackboard, her collection of chemicals on the table, and the results of her color photography experiments on the wall across.
“Your classroom?” He sounded impressed. Looked it, too. Impressed and proud.
“Yes,” she said. “I teach photography. And painting, but mainly photography. I built a lab, too.”
His crooked smile brought back the memories of the red-hued mountain slopes, of a day by the sea, of lying naked and safe in his arms on a creaky mattress in an inn.
Her mouth turned dry. “What brings you here?”
He placed his hat onto her desk. “I’ve had something on my mind ever since we last saw each other.”
The dreary courthouse steps. She shuddered involuntarily.
Lucian looked her in the eye. “When you left, you said you loved me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And the last time I had seen you before that, you said you wished to be courted and wooed by the man you love.”
She nodded, her pulse drumming a hopeful, fateful beat in her ears.
He hesitated. “Are you presently spoken for?”
She thought of the dark-eyed French boys who brought her flowers and chocolates and competed over who would be allowed to carry her camera equipment, no matter where she wished to take her class in the marshlands.
“I regularly correspond with a Monsieur Louis Ducos du Hauron,” she said. “He has greatly widened my mind.”
Lucian’s face looked set in stone. “Du Hauron,” he repeated.
“An inventor,” she said. “I have decided to work on color photography, and he is the pioneer in the field. However,” she added, “I don’t consider this being spoken for.”
The tension he had been holding in his shoulders since he had walked in eased.
“And what of your captor?” he said, watching her closely. “Still unwillingly attached to him?”
“No,” she murmured. “But I still have tender feelings for the man I once married.”
Lucian let out a shaky sigh. “Then I wish to court you,” he said hoarsely. “And woo you.”
“I’m so glad you have come.” It had burst from her like a sob. She had hoped he would, though not expected it, despite the lifeline she had extended on the court steps. “Now I notice how much I wished you would.”
He gave her a wary look. “It took time to locate you. And you were very clear that you wanted to be let alone, so I didn’t think you’d appreciate me showing too soon.”
How had he spent the past six months? Had he been lonely? Flirted with other women?
“How did you do?” she asked, suddenly anxious.
“Well,” he said. “I now own a dog.”
“A dog! What kind of dog?”
“A small whippet,” he said, looking harassed. “A prissy thing. Not sure she knows she’s a dog.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Lucian, why a whippet?”
“I thought you might like her,” he said. “Well knowing you were gone.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t rational.”
A lump formed in her throat. “How did you do?” she repeated softly.
His gaze locked with hers and hid nothing, not an ounce of his raw, deep yearning. “I did all right,” he said. “Half agony, half hope.”
She blinked. “You … read Persuasion?”
“I’ve read them all,” he said, his tone faintly amused. “I like North and South best, but either way I’ve learned many fancy words for properly courting a lost love.”