When had that shift begun? When did romance first creep into their relationship? She had found him attractive from the start, so she could not lay the claim there. She had enjoyed their intimate relations before she could properly tolerate him in conversation, so that must also be ruled out.

There was no moment of truth, no stamp upon the timeline of their marriage that could be traced back. There was simply life with Harrison, and that had been enough.

More than enough.

Adelaide peered into the room as she reached it and grinned at the sight of her handsome, wonderful husband playing with his usual intensity and focus. He would not hear her come in unless she barged, and she had no intention of doing so.

Calmly, with great poise, she glided into the room as though being presented at Court, though there could not have been more difference between court dress and her simple traveling attire. Still, she doubted Harrison would care when he noticed her presence.

She timed her approach to the music, knowing how far he was into the piece and roughly how many measures were left in it. She was almost directly behind him when he finished the piece, and she swallowed the moment his fingers lifted from the keys.

“Good day, Lord Basset.”

He froze, his hands halfway to reaching for the pages of the song. Slowly, he turned on the bench and looked at her, his expression unreadable, though his mouth was fairly relaxed in its almost-smile position.

“Good day, Lady Basset. So you have… come to Trevadden. How long will you stay?”

“Quite a while, I should think,” Adelaide replied in her most proper voice. “It is our home, after all. Our son should live most of his life here, particularly while he is young.”

“I see.” Harrison’s mouth twitched, but he kept it in check. “I confess, I did not think to see you so soon.”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled at him but kept the smile small. “But I have come.”

He turned more fully on the bench,his eyes searching hers. “You seem quite serious, my lady. Are you well?”

Heavens, this restraint was difficult. However did he manage it when his emotions were rising?

“I am,” she assured him. “You see, I realized what a coward I was in London, and that I should embrace what I feel for you rather than fear it. In such a delirium, as you can imagine, I wanted to run and throw myself at you when I returned to Trevadden, and then confess how deeply and how ardently I love you, but I know that you would hate such a display. So I am standing here, sedate and repentant and—”

“Try it.”

His interruption took her off guard. “What?”

“Try it,” he said once more, his expression unchanged. “Try running and throwing yourself at me. See where it leads.”

Adelaide cocked her head in helpless confusion. “You cannot be serious.”