“Why not just tell her?” Henry asked when we had passed through town and started on the two-mile stretch toward home.
“Because it’s not the easiest story to believe,” I reminded him. “The last thing I want is all my friends thinking me crazy. Besides, Brigid hasn’t given permission and it’s not near as difficult to hide my gift from my best friend as it is from my...” I stopped abruptly, uncertain what to call him. “Are you my husband?” I asked him.
Henry kept his eyes focused on the road and the ripening wheat. “I don’t think so. Kilbrid isn’t my real name. The contract wouldn’t be legal.”
“You could always assume my cousin’s name,” I argued. “Or we could get married in secret using your real name. Then it would be lawful.”
He remained silent, staring straight ahead while I continued to plan how best to formalize our union.
“It wouldn’t be safe to have the ceremony performed in Hopewell or Philadelphia,” I said. “But we could go to New York or even to Boston. I’ve always wanted to see Boston. If we left tonight, we could be married within a week.” I glanced at him, expecting his excitement to equal my own.
“We can’t,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“Why not?” A wretched thought popped into my mind. “Don’t you want to marry me? I mean after everything you said last night, I just assumed you wanted me to be your wife.” In danger of babbling, I clamped my mouth shut. If he didn’t want to marry me, there was no use running on and embarrassing myself further. Maybe he regretted all his talk of love. Or my ancestry had proven too much for him. Tears sprang into my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away.
Henry brought the shay to a stop. Tying the reins, he reached over and pulled me onto his lap.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Explaining why we can’t marry—”
“If you don’t want to then just say so,” I interrupted angrily. “We can forget everything that happened.” I struggled to get off his lap, the remnants of my dignity quickly disappearing.
“Not upon my soul,” he said, holding me even tighter. “I love you, Selah, and will have no other woman for my wife. But I cannot legally marry before returning to England.”
This was slightly better than what I had expected. He still wanted to marry me, just not yet. I stopped struggling and leaned against his chest. “Is it that other woman? The one your father wants you to marry?”
“It’s partly due to her. As a gentleman, I must ensure the contract is void before entering into another one.”
“But your name was forged,” I countered.
“The young lady involved has no knowledge of my father’s deceit. I could not treat her so cruelly by marrying someone else while she still believes us attached.”
To be fair, he had a decent point, not that I cared very much about this other woman. “Why else?” I demanded.
“It’s a complicated matter,” he sighed. Burying his face in my hair, he took a deep breath. “I love the way you smell. Sweet like violets, with something wild mixed in.”
“Are you changing the subject?” I tried to pull away again, but he refused to let go.
“If I were trying to change the subject, I would do this.” He turned my face to his and softly kissed me.
Tremors raced through my veins. “You are definitely changing the subject then,” I murmured when he finally pulled back. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because what we have is perfect. I don’t want to spoil it.”
“Good heavens, Henry! I told you that I was descended from a goddess, and you didn’t run away. Why do you think I would be any different?”
“I don’t, it’s just that some things are more difficult to overcome.”
I gaped at him. “I’m not even entirely human! How much more serious can your secret be?”
He smiled at me, unable to deny my reasoning. “You’re right. When you come back from the Otherworld, I’ll tell you.”
“Why not tell me now?” I asked, snuggling closer into him. “I’m in no hurry to go.”
“Because this road is about to get very crowded with people on their way home from meeting. Someplace more private would be nice if I’m to divulge my darkest secrets. Once you return, we’ll ask Karta to pack us a picnic. Then you can sit on my lap for as long as you like, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“You’re just trying to buy more time,” I accused even though the sound of carriage wheels could be heard behind us.
“Maybe, but you’re about to be discovered by your neighbors in a rather compromising position.”
“Have it your way.” I scooted back over to my own seat.
“I usually do,” he said smugly. Flipping the reins, he set the shay back into motion.