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“I wanted to thank you for the herbs,” he admitted with soft sincerity. “They were the most soothing remedy I have ever used. The reaction to the sun eased within minutes of my drinking them. I would have come to you sooner, but they also made me rather tired, and I found it quite impossible to get out of bed.”

“A side effect I can remedy,” she said quickly.

He had used them, and they had helped him. Happiness came over her gently at first. It began somewhere within her stomach and spread outward, warming every part of her despite the cold evening air.

More than that, it meant there was hope of finding a treatment. Her lips curved into a smile before she could stop them.

“I am so pleased,” she confessed. “I shall grow more. Much more. And I shall think of a proper way to prepare them so that you may use them whenever you need them without getting tired.”

“I would appreciate that,” he replied.

Marina took a small breath and continued more carefully. “And perhaps we could meet beneath the sun more often,” she suggested, her cheeks warming as she chose each word. “We could observe how long your skin tolerates it. Just as we did this morning. If we understand how quickly the reaction begins, perhaps I may discover something useful.” She paused, lifting her gaze to his. “More exposure might help us understand how to treat it.”

Ambrose regarded her for a long moment. “Why are you so determined about this?”

“Because Emma will grow up,” Marina said simply. “One day she will ride her pony across the park, and she will look back to see whether you are watching. One day she will walk down the aisle of a chapel full of morning sunlight.” She hesitated, then held his gaze. “I should like you to be there for all of it. And I believe you would like that too.”

Something shifted in his eyes above the dark cloth. For a long moment, he did not answer. Then he nodded. “I suppose we ought to try. It has been many years since I made any attempt to discover what I can and cannot withstand.”

She allowed her eyes to linger on him. He was standing close. The evening breeze swayed gently between them, yet somehow she felt none of its chill. She was too busy letting her gaze wander over the broad line of his shoulders, the dark cloth covering his face, and finally those impossible green eyes that seemed even more striking when everything else was hidden. There was something dangerously intimate about having only his eyes and mouth to look at.

Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to look away at once.

“The sun is very weak now,” she murmured, glancing toward the sky. Then she returned her attention to him, gathering enough courage to make her next suggestion. “Perhaps we could conduct an experiment?”

He paused. She held her breath, hoping she had not overstepped. But when he nodded, relief lifted her heart. Just then, another thought came to mind.

“Would it not be better if we went closer to the stream?” she asked gently, her voice carrying a hint of hopeful excitement. “If your skin reacts too strongly, you could simply go into the cold water until the sun is lower.”

He looked at her as though she had said something entirely unexpected. As though, after years of believing there was no answer to the affliction that ruled his life, she had become the first person stubborn enough to search for one.

And she was not just stubborn. Marina was convinced and hopeful. She wanted to help him. Not because she pitied him. Not only because he was her husband. She simply wanted him to experience the world instead of hiding from it.

Perhaps the urge to help made her daring. She found herself stepping closer. Her eyes searched his green ones, looking for even the slightest sign that he might refuse her. When none came, her fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, and the contact sent a small shiver through her.

“Come with me,” she urged.

Twenty-Five

The evening sun spilled gold across the stream, and the drifts of snow around it made the whole place seem almost enchanted. The trees stood white along the bank their branches covered with frost, while the sunlight shimmered upon the water.

Marina stopped walking. She raised her head to look at the towering man beside her. Her smile faltered. Not because she was unhappy, but because of the sheer intensity of his gaze. She had expected Ambrose to admire the water, the snow, perhaps even the dying sunlight. Instead, his eyes were fixed upon her, and his unblinking stare made her knees weaken.

Why must he look at me as though he means to uncover every secret I possess?

She quickly looked away, forcing herself to remember why they had come. Finally, she lifted her gaze toward the sky, observing the setting sun.

“The sun is about to set,” she reminded him, though she could not quite hide the breathlessness in her voice. “We ought to seize the opportunity now.”

Ambrose nodded, his expression unreadable. But he went on looking at her in a way that made her pulse behave rather disgracefully. Then, with a faintly teasing tone, he said, “Then help me, teacher.”

Her brows lifted. A rather helpless scoff escaped her throat. Of all moments to discover a sense of humor, he had chosen this one.

“For scientific purposes only,” she agreed.

His eyes seemed to brighten. Without another word, Ambrose placed his hands behind his back, and there was something oddly intimate about the single gesture. It was as if he were surrendering himself to her care.

She swallowed, bracing herself before taking a step closer. Then another. Soon, his broad frame stood directly before her, close enough that she had to tip her chin up to meet his eyes. Ambrose leaned forward slightly, seemingly deciding to have mercy upon her height, without breaking eye contact even once.