Page 46 of A Family Bargain with the Duke

She rose from her chair and crossed the narrow space between them. Standing beside him, she reached for his hand without ceremony and gently turned it over in her own.

“Here. Do not think so much about it.”

Her fingers nudged his thumb into place, then straightened the stubborn finger that refused to cooperate.

“There. Let your hand settle naturally.”

Julian watched the movement with the concentration he had brought to every lesson, studying her corrections rather than her face.

“Again,” she instructed, releasing him.

He repeated the sign. “Better?”

Louisa nodded, pleased. “Much better.”

A small, almost boyish satisfaction crossed his features before he attempted it once more on his own, this time without prompting.

“You see?” she said, smiling as she returned to her chair. “You were perfectly capable all along. You merely needed convincing.”

“I shall endeavor to remember that.”

“One more,” Julian demanded, before she could suggest as much herself.

“Of course. Which would you like?”

He hesitated. It was a small thing, barely perceptible, the faintest pause before he answered, and yet Louisa noticed it immediately, some old instinct sharpening at the sight of a man who rarely hesitated over anything at all suddenly finding himself uncertain.

“Teach me how to say I love you.”

Louisa went completely still.

For one long, impossible moment, the whole room seemed to narrow to the space between them, his eyes steady on hers, his hands resting in his lap, and some foolish, unguarded part of her heart leapt straight past reason and asked, Is he speaking to me?

“I—” Her voice came out smaller than she intended, and she cleared her throat, furious with herself for the sudden unsteadiness of it. “Whom… whom do you mean to say it to?”

“Kit.” Julian’s answer came quickly, and something in his expression shifted. “I do not know when he will be ready to hear it, from me or from anyone. But I find I would like to have the words ready all the same so that when the day comes, I am not left fumbling for them the way I fumbled for every other sign before you taught me properly.”

“Of course.” Louisa exhaled and told herself the small, foolish drop in her chest was relief rather than disappointment, though she did not entirely believe it. “That is a very good reason.”

She lifted her hands, forming the sign slowly, deliberately, so he could follow every part of the shape. “Like this. Thumb, index, and smallest finger extended, the rest folded down. It is one of the oldest signs there is in every variation of the language. Watch.”

She repeated it, and Julian’s eyes followed her hands with the same close attention he’d given every sign that morning. Then he lifted his hands and attempted it, his fingers close but not quite correct, his thumb tucked too far beneath his palm.

“Nearly,” Louisa said. “Your thumb wants to extend further. Here.”

Louisa rose from her chair and crossed the small distance between them and closed her fingers gently around his hand, the way she had done a few minutes ago, guiding his thumb into the proper angle.

His hand was warm beneath hers, larger, the faint calluses of a man who rode often and did not entirely leave his estate’s rougher work to others. Louisa found her own fingers considerably less steady than they had any business being, adjusting a simple thumb’s angle.

“Like this?” He turned toward her as he asked it.

The movement brought him unexpectedly close.

“There.” She almost faltered. “Just like that.”

Julian held the shape, his eyes lifting from his hand to meet hers, and only when she looked up did she realize how little distance remained between them, her hand still resting lightly over his. Neither of them looked away or spoke.

The room had gone very quiet, the lesson forgotten entirely. His eyes met hers, warm and impossibly steady, close enough now that she could make out the faint flecks of amber hidden within the green.