“I concur,” she murmured, rolling to her side so that her back was against him. She wriggled her backside, and he smiled again. Yes, this sleeping-together part was definitely wonderful. Could they just live together in this cottage until the new year?

“Won’t your brother miss you?” she asked sleepily. Apparently, he’d asked that last part out loud.

“I suppose. I told them I wasn’t feeling well and retired to my chamber early, then I stole from the house.”

“Someone will have seen you.” She yawned. “It’s a large household. We can’t do this every night. Indeed, it will be a few days before we can do it again, and even then, we should perhaps meet in the afternoon.”

He tamped down his disappointment. He wanted to see her every day. “I’m at your command.” He’d almost said, “My love.”

He had to be careful. What he wanted was not the same as what she wanted. He needed to accept that he would be disappointed, that this would end.

Until then, he’d make the most of this. And he’d hope.

A few days later, Gregory made his way toward the cottage, whistling, as Ash trotted ahead of him. The pup stopped every now and then to sniff things and once or twice to dig at something. Gregory prodded him along as necessary, not because the dog was in the wrong, but because Gregory was anxious to reach his destination.

He’d met Evie at the cottage every day since that first night, and he only wanted more. More laughter. More conversation. More touching. More time.

“You spend an inordinate amount of time with that dog.”

Gregory snapped his head up to see his brother striding toward him. Had Clifford followed him? No, he wasn’t coming from the direction of the house. “Afternoon, Clifford. I enjoy the dog’s company very much.”

Clifford snorted. “If you’re trying to elegantly say you prefer him to me, that was well done. But you’re never that snide, not even charmingly.”

“I leave that to you.”

“Ha! You do have bite.” Clifford chortled. “Perhaps you’re loosening up now that Father is gone.”

Gregory bristled. This wasn’t the first time Clifford had made such a comment. “I am the same person I was before Father’s death, and I don’t expect to change.”

“I don’t see you rushing to be ordained. You know, I could easily retire old Fairley and replace him with you.”

The vicar in Witney was sixty and truly still in his prime, as far as Gregory was concerned. “You can’t do that. We’ve known him our entire lives.”

Clifford shrugged. “He’d probably welcome the opportunity.”

“No.” Gregory was all but certain Mr. Fairley would not. He was well liked and respected. “Everyone in and around Witney would revolt.”