Free A Perfect Secret by Donna Hatch Page B

would have received a position in the church by now. Are you still planning to go into the clergy?”
    He shook his head.
    She waited.
    He didn’t elaborate.
    She reached down inside and found a smile she could offer him. “Would you be willing to give me a tour of the gardens?”
    Without looking at her, he shrugged and with forced nonchalance, said, “If you wish.”
    Her heart squeezed. Surely a hundred other women had tried to heal Christian’s wounded heart and win his love. She pictured another woman in his arms. Jealousy tied her stomach into knots. That, of course, was selfish. He deserved happiness, and she certainly couldn’t give it to him. Yet for one mad moment, she almost told him everything and begged him to take her away.
    But she was the daughter of a traitor, and had sold herself for a blackmailer’s silence. She was used and broken. Her unworthiness of Christian sliced through her wounded heart, and another piece fell away leaving an increasingly larger void inside.
    She should leave. His presence only reminded her of what she’d sacrificed. And she clearly made him uncomfortable. But if she could help heal the wounds of the past, they might both find healing. There had to be a way to break through those heavy shields he held in front of him as if he saw her as a foe bent on destroying him. She owed it to him to try to help him if she could. And she craved his forgiveness.
    Christian cleared his throat and made a loose gesture that encompassed the garden in which they stood. “I suppose we can start here. This garden was designed by the seventh Baron Tarrington, back before my great, great-grandfather was given the additional title of earl.”
    He led her through each of the gardens, describing with obvious family pride, the background and its roots in mythology. Each successive Lord Tarrington had added his own garden with a unique theme. Caught up in his tales, Christian’s reserve softened. His animated expression and eyes alit with excitement, combined with his rich baritone, kept her spell-bound. Her gaze riveted to his lips—full and expressive.
    “Cole has yet to design his garden but he’s mad about astronomy and Greek legends, and has a number of ideas.”
    As they came to a new entrance to a garden, he quickened his steps to lead her past it. A haunted shadow darkened his eyes.
    She glanced up at him. “What is it?”
    He swallowed hard. “I don’t go there. It’s where my brother died.”
    She drew in her breath. She’d heard him speak of Cole, Jared, and Grant. Had one of them died since that summer in Bath?  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Who?”
    “Jason,” he bit out. “Are you tiring?”
    She almost stepped away from his fierceness. “A little.”
    Jason. An Amesbury brother she didn’t know he had. Glancing over her shoulder to the garden Christian shunned, she wondered about the brother he’d lost, and the circumstances of the death that obviously tormented Christian. He’d never spoken of it. She eyed him as they walked, but his expression remained closed over, his thoughts tightly guarded. He led her through the maze of pathways to the house. His posture stiff, he walked as far on the other side of the path as he could. If only she could soothe his hurt.
    A pristine white lily blossomed in the middle of a nearly dormant flower bed. She gestured at it. “Look, a lily blooming so late in the year.” She paused, bent down and admired the flower that had the boldness to bloom despite the rest of the world withdrawing from the looming winter.
    Christian leaned down and picked it. He handed it to her. “You might as well take it inside or the cool nights will kill it soon.”
    She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
    They stood only inches apart, so near that the heat of his body seemed to enfold her, so near that his bay rum aftershave wafted to her, so near that she could touch him if she moved her hand. So far away that they could never recapture what they