The journey home from Baston Island to Albion was a world away from the tense, silent carriage rides Delia was used to. The sun was warm, the scenery was beautiful, and the man beside her was no longer a stranger or a contract partner, but her husband who is ready to let the world burn for her.
Eric took her hand, his fingers lacing through hers. He brought her knuckles to his lips, giving it a soft kiss before turning her hand to bring her palm to his lips again and pressed a soft, warm kiss into its center before placing it gently against his cheek. "Are you absolutely sure we should go home?" he asked, his voice a low, playful murmur. "Don't you think we should have stayed for just one more day?"
Delia smiled, a genuine, relaxed expression. With her free hand, she gently arranged a piece of his dark hair that the wind had blown across his forehead. "You have to go to work, Your Grace," she teased. "You can't leave everything for poor Aiden to handle all by himself."
