“You will?”
“Of course I will. Rise, Sir Knight, and claim your lady.” I reached down to take his hand, but he stayed where he was.
“Then you accept?” he asked.
“Would you like me to write it in blood?”
“I would like you to say yes.”
“Yes, William Arthur Willis. I will marry you.”
I expected him to rise to his feet and sweep me into a passionate embrace. Instead, he sat back on his heels and let out a whooshing sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said. “I thought I’d never pry it out of you.”
“You didn’t seriously think I would refuse, did you?”
“No, but you had to say yes. You had to say that particular word, and I didn’t think you would ever say it.” He stood up and began to put his arms around me, but I held him off.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Why that particular word? Why do I get the feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“Because you’re right. I couldn’t tell you before, but now I can.” He leaned forward on the railing. “You remember those stories I told you about, the ones Dimity told me when Father and I were staying at her town house in London?”
“Yes.”
“I never told you who the heroine was. She was a feisty, irrepressible, entirely enchanting little girl, and her name just happened to be… Lori.”
“You’re not saying—”
“All I’m saying is that I never got her out of my mind, especially after Dimity promised that I’d get to meet her one day. She said I’d meet her and fall in love with her and that she would fall in love with me, too, though it would take her a while to realize it. And she said that I couldn’t tell her anything about any of this until I’d won her heart and hand.”
“Dimity? Dimity was our matchmaker?”
“Now, Lori, you said yourself that you have nothing against matchmaking. And we have it on the very highest authority—that of the inestimable Pym sisters and the experience of your own parents—that Dimity was the best.”
“But… but…” I gave up and shook my head. “No wonder they call twelve an impressionable age.”
“I’m sorry for pushing all those clothes on you, by the way. I should have known it would be too much too soon. But I’d waited so long and I was so happy. … And, uh, there’s one other thing I should probably clarify as long as I’m at it.” He pulled a small box from his pocket. It was covered with dark blue leather. He held it out to me and said, “Ngee oot sanzi, Lori.”
I blinked up at him in confusion and searched my memory. “Let’s get back to work? But I’ve finished—”
“Wait. That’s not what it means. What it actually means is what I’ve wanted to tell you all along. It means, I love—”
Before he could get the last word out, the sound of tires on gravel wafted through the air from the front of the cottage. He grimaced. “What a perfect time for Emma to bring the kids over to meet the Cookie Lady.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, tugging his arm. “I’ve been wanting to meet Peter and Nell. It won’t take long.”
“It’d better not,” he said, but he allowed himself to be dragged to the front door.
We swung it wide, and to our mutual astonishment beheld none other than Willis, Sr., climbing out of the limo with the ever-helpful Paul at his elbow. Paul waved and tipped his cap at me, unloaded Willis, Sr.’s luggage, then backed the limo onto the road and sped off. Willis, Sr., meanwhile, stood on the flagstone walk, his eyes fixed on the cottage, deep in thought.
“Father! Why didn’t you call? I would have come to pick you up.”
“Mr. Willis, if I’d known you were coming early, I’d have—”
“Curious,” Willis, Sr., said, half to himself. “Most curious.” He became aware of our dumbfounded presence and shrugged helplessly. “I assure you that I share your surprise at my early arrival. I am not at all certain that I can explain it.”
“I think I can,” Bill muttered as he went to get his father’s luggage. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
By the time we were settled in the living room—Bill beside his father, and me perched on the window seat—Willis, Sr., had given us as much of an explanation as he could. It wasn’t much. He had simply canceled all of his appointments for the day, boarded a Concorde, and come straight to the cottage, drawn by an urge as irresistible as it was inexplicable. “Whatever will Mrs. Franklin think? And Mr. Hudson? Two of our most valued clients. Oh, dear me…”
“Father, I think that Lori and I will be able to explain this to you.” Bill put a reassuring hand on his father’s impeccably tailored shoulder.
“Will you?” Willis, Sr., asked doubtfully.