Chapter Ten
At breakfast the next morning, Angeline and the twins joined everyone else at breakfast.
“We plan to teach Hercules to sit,” Bianca said to the marquess.
“One would think that would be a natural thing to do,” the marquess said.
Angeline smiled at Colin and then addressed the marquess. “Hercules is learning to sit after getting a verbal command. He has done very well.”
“He likes the treats he gets for obeying,” Bernadette said.
“That is progress,” Margaret said. “Thank you, Angeline. I know the girls are grateful as well.”
The marquess snorted behind his paper.
Ames brought a sealed letter on a silver dish to the marquess. “It is marked urgent,” Ames said.
Colin finished his meal and accepted another cup of tea.
The marquess opened the letter and scowled. “What in blazes is wrong with that man?” he demanded.
“Chadwick,” Margaret said. “We do not shout at the table.”
“I’ll shout all I want. That fool Faraday probably takes all day to decide it’s time to take a sh—”
The duchess gasped.
“Father,” Colin said. “Ladies are present, including my very impressionable sisters.” From the gleaming expressions in the twins’ eyes, Colin figured they had added some very colorful words to their vocabulary, probably from the stable boys when they had their riding lessons.
“I can’t believe it,” the marquess said. “Now he wants to bring his wife to have a look at the house. How many times must he see it? I tire of his foolishness. Colin, go meet the man. I’m liable to say something exceedingly impolite or throw him out on his ar—”
“Chadwick,” Margaret said in shocked tones. “You forget yourself.”
“I beg your pardon,” he grumbled.
“If Mrs. Faraday sees the house and approves of it, she may be more likely to make a decision quickly,” Margaret said. “Lady Angeline, you have a great deal of knowledge about design and architecture, perhaps you could speak to Mrs. Faraday.”
Colin set his cup aside slowly. He hesitated a moment, knowing what he meant to do was dishonorable, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass or he would surely lose Sommerall.
“Wycoff,” Colin said, “if you are amenable, I think it might help if Angeline attended. She could answer any questions Mrs. Faraday might have.”
The marquess addressed his friend. “The other couple will be there, so there’s no question about propriety. I’d be obliged if you will allow it. Your daughter probably knows more about the house than any of us.”
“I can verify that,” Colin said.
“I’ll allow it,” Wycoff said, “provided you return as soon as the business is concluded. I don’t want there to be even a hint of impropriety.”
Colin made himself meet Wycoff’s eyes. He told himself that he could persuade Angeline to agree to the marriage through honorable means. She had certainly given serious thought to a marriage of convenience, but she had not given him a definitive answer. If she said no, he stood to lose Sommerall. Perhaps today, he could persuade her to make the engagement official.
Margaret rose and rang the bell. “I’ll have cook prepare a hamper in the event the house inspection takes longer than expected. It occurs to me that Mr. and Mrs. Faraday may wish to see the grounds as well.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” Angeline said. “That is very thoughtful of you.”
“You had better dress warmly and take an umbrella,” Margaret said. “The clouds are rather gray, and the wind is blowing. You do not want to catch a chill.”
“I don’t think we’re in any danger of that,” Angeline said. “At any rate, a bit of rain won’t hurt us.”
“Can we come with you?” Bianca asked.
“Absolutely not,” Colin said.
“Colin, please,” Bianca said.
“The answer is no,” Colin said. “You will only be in the way.”
“Margaret,” the marquess said, “do you know the going price for unmannerly fifteen-year-old girls? We might get a bit of extra coin if we sell the twins to Faraday along with the house. Their value has increased somewhat since they started speaking the King’s English instead of twin gibberish. ”
“There’s the hamper,” Margaret said to Angeline. “I hope your journey isn’t too soggy.”
“We should be off,” Colin said. “I don’t want to be late.”
The marquess lifted his gaze from the newspaper. “I wouldn’t be in any rush if I were you. Faraday is liable to keep you waiting for some time.”
The carriage had just turned off the drive when the rain started in earnest. Angeline sat beside Colin and looked out the window. “I hope the rain doesn’t keep Mr. and Mrs. Faraday away,” she said.
“I have high hopes they won’t show,” Colin said.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Colin. I spoke heedlessly.”
Don’t feel sorry for me. “He’s probably afraid to take her out in the rain.”
“Well, it is damp and chilly,” Angeline said. “You indicated she is in a delicate condition.”
“We shall see what happens.” If she balked at the idea of marrying him, he would have no choice but to take drastic measures. He would have to make it seem as if they’d gotten lost in passion. God, he’d never done anything like this in his life. He’d never even contemplated it.
“I was surprised you agreed to meet Faraday,” she said. “You have nothing to gain and everything to lose in this sale.”
“You think so?” I’m praying Mrs. Faraday hates the house, because the thought of seducing you is killing me.
“What are you planning?” she said. “I can see something is on your mind.”
“I was thinking I might point out all the work that must be done for the house to be in a proper state of order.”
She stared at him. “You cannot be serious.”
He removed his hat and set it beside him. “The thought might have crossed my mind.” It is preferable to what I intend for you.
“Faraday has doubts enough that he’s returning for the third time,” she said. “I think his doubts are in your favor.”
“He must be very interested or he would not bother to bring his wife,” he said. “Frankly, I’m trying to think of ways to discourage him.”
“You know I support your claim to the property, but you should not discourage him,” she said.
“Even if it means I lose Sommerall and strangers tramp across my mother’s resting place?”
“I understand your feelings,” she said, “but you would not feel right about doing it.”
You have no idea what I would do to keep Sommerall. “The truth is the house needs work—a great deal of work as you well know.”
She set her gloved hand over his. “Colin, you surprise me. Honesty is always the best policy.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying you would never use your wiles to get something you want very badly?”
“Not at someone else’s expense.”
His blood heated. He’d grown angry with her. She knew he was a rake. Why was she foolish enough to trust him? “Can you imagine using your wiles for someone else? Your sister, perhaps?”
Her face turned red at his words. “How dare you say such a thing? You know how much I worry about my sister.”
“So the rules are different for you than for me?”
“Stop the carriage this instant,” she said.
“Angeline, I apologize—”
“Stop the carriage. Take me back to Deerfield.”
He’d muddled things up now. “Angeline, calm yourself.”
“No, I will not. How can you be so cruel?”
She has no idea how cruel I mean to be.
“You know how much I worry about Penny.”
He caught her hands. “Listen. It slipped out and was badly done on my part. All I have is a sorry excuse.”
“You’re worried about losing Sommerall,” she said. “It must be the vexation.”
She took off her bonnet and laid her head against his shoulder. “I understand.” She drew in a shuddered breath. “I should have been more understanding and sympathetic.”
“Please forgive me.” He was miserable with his dishonesty and so tempted to confess, but if he did, he would set events in motion that would hurt her and the friendships of both their families.
“I know how much Sommerall means to you.”
I’m a selfish bastard, but I swear I’ll make it up to you.
“It is not wrong for you to want to keep the house to preserve your mother’s grave. The house does need work. There are marks on the walls, the carpets have to be replaced, and the furnishings are out of date. You do not have to exaggerate the problems, but you do not have to point out the virtues, either.”
He clenched his teeth. I don’t deserve you. “My guess is our row has been all for naught,” Colin said. “Most likely, Mr. and Mrs. Faraday will not show.”
As the carriage rumbled along, Angeline found herself hoping that Colin was right about the Faradays, because she was having doubts about their trial engagement. She wanted to grasp his offer of a marriage of convenience, because it was a chance to redeem herself. Most of all, it was a gift she wanted to give to her sweet little sister, and for that, she would use her wiles and even marry to make sure Penny could make her debut in London next spring. But it wasn’t fair to Colin. None of her reasons involved him, and that wasn’t honorable at all.
Thunder rumbled. Colin held the umbrella as they ran to the door. The wet made it a bit chilly, and Angeline was glad for her warm cape. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside. They hung their damp wraps and set their gloves on the marble hall table.
“I’ll set the hamper in the breakfast parlor,” Colin said.
“Thank you,” she said. The gold mirror in the foyer, the marble floors, and the banisters gleamed. She realized she’d made a mistake by instructing Agnes to clean and shine everything so well that it fairly sparkled.
Angeline removed her bonnet and guilt left a bruised place in her chest. It had been foolish of her to argue about Sommerall when she hated the thought of him losing the property. It really was all he had left of his mother, other than the cradle and the rocker.
Colin strode through the great hall. “We might as well go to the drawing room. I imagine we shall have a long wait,” he said.
“How long do you think they will be?” she asked as Colin escorted her upstairs.
“He was an hour late the last time, although to be fair he was concerned about his wife.”
They had just cleared the landing when the knocker rapped.
She met his gaze. “They are on time. Do you suppose Mrs. Faraday insists upon punctuality?”
“Probably,” he said.
“Shall we greet them?”
“Yes, of course. We will also get our exercise going up and down the stairs.” He leaned down. “Thank you for coming with me, and I’m sorry for cutting up at you.”
“So am I,” she whispered. Her vexation had increased each day that went by. She could no longer lie to herself. She had developed feelings for Colin, very strong ones. She knew he deserved a wife who didn’t have a sullied reputation, and it worried her. It was one thing to plan a marriage of convenience, but it was quite another when tender feelings were involved. She was at a crossroads, and she did not know what to do. But she must think of Colin’s feelings now, rather than her own.
Even though it was not Mr. Faraday’s first visit, Angeline figured it could not be easy for Colin to watch strangers walking about his house—or rather his father’s house. Yet he was bearing up to it better than she would have done.
When Colin opened the door, he bowed and welcomed the couple. The lady was much shorter than her husband and very pregnant. She rested her hand on her belly as she gazed upon the foyer. “How lovely,” she said.
“Lady Angeline, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Faraday,” Colin said.
Mrs. Faraday smiled as she followed Angeline to the great hall. “How long have you and your husband lived here?”
“He is not my husband,” Angeline said.
Mrs. Faraday’s eyes widened. “I see.” She pinched her lips and regarded Angeline with raised brows. “Well, you are certainly forthright about your situation.”
Colin frowned and held his hands up from his place behind Mr. Faraday as if asking what was wrong.
Angeline bit her lip to keep from laughing. Apparently Mrs. Faraday assumed Angeline was living in sin with Colin.
“Lord Ravenshire is an old family friend,” Angeline explained. “I have been making recommendations to him about Sommerall.”
Mrs. Faraday’s brows almost shot to her hairline. “Doubtless he is, er, appreciative.” She shook out her fan, caught her husband’s arm, and whispered something to him. When he started to look back at Angeline, Mrs. Faraday swatted him with her fan.
The woman must have thought Angeline was lying about her title.
“If you wish, you and your husband may go upstairs and look over the rooms,” Angeline said. “Meet us in the drawing room when you are finished.”
Mrs. Faraday practically dragged her husband up the stairs.
Colin escorted Angeline to the drawing room. “What was that all about?” he muttered.
“Mrs. Faraday apparently believes I’m your mistress posing as Lady Angeline.”
“No,” he said, laughing.
She nodded. “As soon as I explained you were not my husband, I could see she was both shocked and titillated.”
His shoulders shook with laughter. Then he walked to the window and opened the drapes. “No wonder it’s dim in here. The clouds are even darker now.”
Rolling thunder rumbled. Angeline joined him at the window, transfixed by the lightning brightening up the sky. “Oh,” she said. “The lightning is awful.”
“I hope we’re not in for a storm.”
When she shivered, he cupped her elbow. “Let’s return to the sofa. It will pass soon.”
The clock struck the half hour and voices sounded outside the drawing room.
Colin and Angeline rose.
“Mrs. Faraday would like a look at the drawing room,” Mr. Faraday said.
“You are welcome to examine the room. If you have any questions, we will be glad to answer to the best of our knowledge,” Colin said.
As it turned out, Mrs. Faraday had a number of questions regarding the drawing room. She seemed a bit put off by the marks on the walls where paintings had once been. “It would have been better to leave the paintings to cover the marks.”
“The family portraits were removed to a different property,” Colin said.
“I see,” she said, walking about. “The furnishings and chair rails are very old fashioned.”
“The house has not been occupied for some time,” Colin said.
“To be sure, there is much work to be done.” Mrs. Faraday placed her hand on her rounded belly again. “How am I to find the time? I’ll have my hands full soon enough.”
“That is something to consider,” Angeline said. Privately, she thought the woman terribly persnickety. Mrs. Faraday’s numerous complaints about minor issues grated on her nerves, but she maintained her poise.
When Mrs. Faraday examined the ceiling, she said, “Is this a reproduction?”
Angeline exchanged a smile with Colin.
“It is original,” Colin said.
“You’re sure?” Mrs. Faraday said.
“It has been in my family for many years,” Colin said.
“Where are the carpets?” Mrs. Faraday said.
“They faded,” Angeline said.
“I suppose they can be replaced, but that’s additional expense, Mr. Faraday,” his lady said.
“To be sure it is, Mrs. Faraday,” her husband said.
She took her husband’s arm. “I adore the nursery, but I understand you wish to keep the cradle and rocker, Lord Ravenshire.”
“Yes, I do,” Colin said.
“There is much to like, Mr. Faraday,” his wife said, “but I feel I must look at the other one again. This property is priced on the higher side compared to the other. There are some drawbacks, but we will take all into consideration.”
Angeline bit her lip. Really, the woman’s blatant attempts to lower the price were too obvious.
“It is such a difficult decision,” Mrs. Faraday said. “Nothing ever quite suits me.”
Colin cleared his throat. “Mr. Faraday, do you have any questions?”
“No, my lord. I will contact your esteemed father in a week or so. We should have a decision by then, provided we don’t decide to have one more peek at the house, that is.” Mr. Faraday chuckled.
“Come along, Mr. Faraday,” his lady said. “I’ve a mind to see the other place one more time.” She paused and said, “We are serious about the property. The location is especially convenient, as we have family in the area.”
“I understand,” Colin said, his tone neutral.
Colin and Angeline led the way downstairs.
When Colin opened the door, it was raining harder. “Mind your step,” he said as Mr. and Mrs. Faraday hurried to their carriage.
A crack of thunder made Angeline gasp. Colin shut the door and looked at her. “No wonder my father is exasperated.”
“I cannot believe Mrs. Faraday asked if you were certain the painted ceiling was an original.”
They both laughed.
“Your father should not indulge Faraday again. The man has no spine, and his wife is a bit vulgar. Can you imagine how often Mr. and Mrs. Faraday would call at Deerfield?”
“That would certainly be a deterrent to sell to them,” he said.
“Perhaps your father will grant you the property now,” she said. “I’m sure he would enjoy having you close.”
“Are you hungry? We might as well eat luncheon since we have the hamper,” he said. “We can depart afterward.”
She noticed he’d not responded to her statement about him living at Sommerall. Evidently, he did not wish to discuss the matter.
When they reached the breakfast parlor, Colin lit a branch of candles because it was dim.
Angeline served the chicken, ham, fresh bread, cheese, and biscuits. He found a bottle of claret and they drank wine with their meal. Afterward, Angeline sighed. “We didn’t eat even a quarter of the food.”
“It will keep until we return,” he said.
“It is a cozy breakfast parlor. Do you have any memories of this room at all?”
“No, I only have vague recollections of being in the nursery,” he said.
Another loud crack of thunder startled Angeline. Colin opened the shutters. Lightning lit up the sky, and he squinted through the wavy glass. “There’s the carriage. John is taking it to the old barn.”
“Oh, dear,” Angeline said, standing beside him. “I’m glad there’s a safe place for John and the horses.”
Thunder clapped again and lightning snaked through the sky. She rubbed her arms. “Lightning has always frightened me a little,” she said.
“It is dangerous to be out of doors in a lightning storm,” he said.
The wind gusted, and the slanted rain sheeted.
Within minutes something was pounding the roof. He used a napkin to clear the fog on the window. “It’s hail.”
“What an awful storm,” she said.
“We’ll just have to wait it out,” Colin said. “Shall we go to the drawing room? I’ll light a fire, and we can have another glass of wine while we wait.”
She was still rubbing her cold arms. “I wish I’d brought a shawl.”
“I’ll pull a blanket off one of the beds and bring it to you, and then I’ll make a toasty fire.”
“Very well.” It seemed they would not be able to leave until the rain and hail abated. Hopefully, the storm would blow over soon.
He brought the wine bottle and she carried their glasses. He set the bottle on the sideboard. “I’ll be only a moment,” he said.
Thunder kept rolling and the rain and hail pounded the roof. She walked to the window and pulled back the drapes. It was raining so hard that she could make out very little through the wavy glass except sheeting rain. Footsteps thudded and she was relieved to see Colin. “I looked out the window. The rain is drumming the roof.”
“It’s the hail you hear.” He stood behind her and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. He was so close she caught the scent of sandalwood on him. “Better?” he said, his breath tickling her neck.
“Yes, thank you.”
His hands lingered a moment, and she was all too aware of him. She felt cherished for a moment as if he were her husband and she were his wife. It made her a little sad to think that she might never know such a simple, comforting gesture ever again.
“I looked out from the master chamber,” Colin said, his mind clearly on the storm. “Water is already standing on the grounds. I walked through the bedchambers and didn’t see any leaks from the windows.”
“That is good news. I’m glad we arrived before the storm hit.”
“I’m glad Mr. and Mrs. Faraday left before the storm got worse. Otherwise, we’d be stuck with their company.”
“Perish the thought,” she said, laughing. “I wonder how long the storm will last.”
“Eventually, the rain will relent. We may have to wait a few hours until the roads dry a bit, but we’ll survive.”
“Indeed we will.” She crossed the room, kicked off her slippers, and curled her legs on the sofa.
His hands were on his hips. “You look quite comfortable.”
“It is unladylike, but I doubt you care.”
“I’m shocked,” he said, clutching his chest.
“Drink another glass of wine. That should cure you.”
“But nothing ever suits me,” he said.
They both laughed.
“Oh, my stars,” Angeline said. “You absolutely cannot let them purchase Sommerall.”
He sobered. “I’ve no say in it.”
He seemed to have forgotten he could marry her to prevent his father from selling. Perhaps he regretted having ever broached the subject of marriage but didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“I’ll cross that bridge soon enough,” he said.
“Are you worried?” she asked.
“Everything will come about, one way or the other.”
It was one of those statements meant to reassure someone but seldom ever did. She wasn’t encouraged at all. She suspected he was having second thoughts about marrying a woman with a past. While she’d spoken very plainly to him about what he might endure if he married her, he was a gentleman and unlikely to tell her if he was troubled. Now was the perfect opportunity to discuss the issues, but she put it off. Their last row had left her drained like a bloodletting.
He set the candle branch on the hearth where a tinderbox and spunks for transferring the fire were stored. “I promised you a fire.”
After he managed a spark, he removed his coat, squatted before the hearth, and applied the bellows. As the fire caught, the flames crackled.
His linen shirt stretched across his back as he worked. When he stood and applied a poker, she allowed herself to survey his long muscular legs. She recollected the sparse dark hair beneath his shirt and on his arms the day he’d wielded that ax. From what she knew of his reputation, she’d not expected to find him so fit, but evidently, he enjoyed fencing.
He set the poker aside and topped up their wineglasses.
When he joined her on the sofa, he sat close and handed her one.
She sipped it, and he smiled. “Your lips are red from the wine.”
“So are yours,” she said.
“Are you warm enough?” His voice was low and a little rough.
She nodded and found herself breathless as she looked at his full lower lip.
He laid his arm along the back of the sofa, and his hand was only inches from her shoulder. The tension inside of her wound up like a clock. She realized she was a tiny bit foxed and set the glass aside.
She walked to the window again and pushed the drapes aside, but the wavy glass combined with the relentless rain made it impossible to see anything.
“Angeline, you are restless.”
She regarded him over her shoulder. “I’m worried. It’s bad out there.”
“We’re safe here. We have food and drink. There’s a caddy of tea in the basket and a jug of water. I imagine there’s a kettle in the kitchen we can use. It may be several hours before the rain stops, but eventually the roads will dry enough for us to travel.”
“I’ll go to the kitchen and find a kettle.” She hurried downstairs and walked into the kitchen. After a few minutes, she located the kettle and a teapot. After a long search, she found a tray and placed the kettle, teapot, a strainer for the tea, and two cups on it. Pleased with her discoveries, Angeline walked back to the drawing room.
He met her halfway down the steps. “That tray is too heavy for you.”
“Thank you for the help,” she said, and followed him back to the drawing room.
She poured water from the jug into the kettle, and Colin set it on the hob in the fireplace. Afterward, she added tea leaves to the pot. Thunder boomed again, startling her. She pressed her hand to her heart. “That was fearsome.”
He smiled. A few minutes later, the kettle shrieked. He rescued it and poured the hot water in the pot. After he set the kettle back on the hob, he said, “Now all we need to do is wait for the tea to get dark.”
“A hot cup of tea is always welcome when it’s chilly.”
He shook the blanket out and laid it over her. “Warm now?”
“Yes, thank you.” His simple gesture made her yearn to have someone love and care for her. Someone who would take a heavy tray or bring a blanket to her. Someone who would laugh with her and hold her close and reassure her when the weather was bad. With all of her heart she yearned to have someone to lean on, someone to depend on, someone who would love her even though she had made mistakes. But unless something changed, it seemed the poor choices she’d made would dictate the few choices available to her.
The rain grew fiercer.
He looked up at the painted ceiling. “So far it’s holding.”
“The house is sound,” she said. It was a fine house for a family. Of course it was small compared to Worthington Abbey and Deerfield, but it would make a good house for a young couple. Little wonder the Faradays kept coming back.
She wished that she and Colin would live here, but it was a foolish thought, one she shouldn’t entertain because it would only make her sad when he inevitably told her he did not think they would suit.
It would happen. No sane man wanted a wife with a wanton reputation, no matter how undeserving.
“If it doesn’t let up soon, we may not be able to leave,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said. “We have to return before nightfall.”
“We may not have a choice, but there’s no need to fret. It won’t last forever. As soon as the roads are passable, we’ll depart.”
“Our families will worry.”
“The rain isn’t our fault. It’s every bit as bad at Deerfield as it is here.”
“You’re right,” she said. “No doubt we’ll be able to leave in the next hour or two.”
He sighed. “It won’t be in the next hour or two.”
“Perhaps we should try to travel now before it gets dark,” she said.
“With this much rain, the roads are bound to be muddy and potentially dangerous. In case you haven’t noticed, the hail is still pounding the roof and the water is standing outside.”
She poured tea over the sieve into the cups. “Come, I made you a cup of tea.”
When he returned, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
Oh, dear, he seemed a bit amorous, but perhaps he just forgot himself. She reminded herself not to interpret the gesture as a tender one.
He sat right next to her and sipped the tea. “It’s good.”
Who am I trying to fool? Myself? She inched over next to the rolled arm of the sofa. “Yes, the tea is just the thing. I’m glad we have supplies. It would be miserable if we had no food or drink.” I am prattling like that silly Mrs. Quimby.
He eyed her over his cup with an amused expression.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“I wish there were cards or a game to play,” she said.
“We never found either,” he said, setting his cup on the tray. “Someone or some persons probably took them along with my mother’s miniature.”
“I’m sorry. I’d hoped to find it.”
He set her cup aside for her and cupped her cheek. “So sweet,” he said, his voice low and full of sensual promise.
“Are you ready to give up your life in London for Sommerall?” she asked in a voice just barely above a whisper.
Before departing London, he recalled waking up to the devil of a head, bottles on the night table, and an actress whose name he’d forgotten again. “I’ve not put a time table on it. When the time is right, I’ll know.”
Meaning it wasn’t the right time now. He was studiously avoiding the subject of marriage. On the other hand, they had agreed to use the three weeks to get to know one another better. Yet it troubled her. When the three weeks ended, their conversation was bound to be uncomfortable, but she would take the lead and assure him that she did not expect him to sacrifice for her. For now, she would take advantage of the opportunity to be alone with him and learn more about him.
“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” she said.
“I like hot baths and stay in until the water grows cold and my toes and fingers wrinkle. Now tell me something about you I don’t already know,” he said.
“I love scents,” she said. “They mesmerize me. I stop sometimes to inhale the smell of beeswax candles.”
He regarded her with fascination. “What other scents do you like?”
“Rose soap and warm sugar biscuits.” She paused. “I love the scent of freshly washed and ironed linens; they smell of sunshine. Sometimes I hold them and keep breathing in the warmth and the sun. What scents do you like?” she murmured.
He nuzzled her neck. “I like the scent of your skin and the feel of your soft cheeks.” He met her gaze. “I like your slender fingers and the pearl earrings that dangle from your ears.” He flicked one with his finger. Then he smiled a little. “I like when you’re feisty and want to spar with me.”
“Surely you jest,” she said, laughing.
“No, I like that you’re spirited and clever.” He considered her with a mischievous expression. “There are other things about you I like very well, but I’ll keep them to myself.”
She sniffed. “Doubtless they are wicked.”
He laughed. “I’m not telling.”
“Good,” she said.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked.
She frowned. “For what?”
“This.” He leaned down and captured her lips.