“Because . . . well, he . . .” Ivo paused, fumbling for an explanation.
“Because,” Pandora intervened, lowering her voice confidentially, “as we were planning the layout of the castle, the hermit crab discreetly asked me if we would include a smoking room. I was a bit shocked, as I thought he was rather young for such a vice, but it certainly leaves no doubt as to his masculinity.”
Justin stared at her raptly. “What else did he say?” he demanded. “What is his name? Does he like his castle? And the moat?”
Pandora launched into a detailed account of her conversation with the hermit crab, reporting that his name was Shelley, after the poet, whose works he admired. He was a well-traveled crustacean, having flown to distant lands while clinging to the pink leg of a herring gull who had no taste for shellfish, preferring hazelnuts and bread crumbs. One day, the herring gull, who possessed the transmigrated soul of an Elizabethan stage actor, had taken Shelley to see Hamlet at the Drury Lane theater. During the performance, they had alighted on the scenery and played the part of a castle gargoyle for the entire second act. Shelley had enjoyed the experience but had no wish to pursue a theatrical career, as the hot stage lights had nearly fricasseed him.
Gabriel stopped digging and listened, transported by the wonder and whimsy of Pandora’s imagination. Out of thin air, she created a fantasy world in which animals could talk and anything was possible. He was charmed out of all reason as he watched her, this sandy, disheveled, storytelling mermaid, who seemed already to belong to him and yet wanted nothing to do with him. His heart worked in strange rhythms, as if it were struggling to adjust to a brand new metronome.
What was happening to him?
The rules of logic by which he’d always lived had somehow been subverted so that marrying Lady Pandora Ravenel was now the only acceptable outcome. He was unprepared for this girl, this feeling, this infuriating uncertainty that he might not end up with the one person he absolutely must be with.
But how the devil could he make the prospect of marriage acceptable to her? He had no desire to bully her into it, and he doubted that was possible anyway. Nor did he want to take away her choices. He wanted to be her choice.
Bloody hell, there wasn’t enough time. If they weren’t engaged when she returned to London, the scandal would erupt full-force, and the Ravenels would have to act decisively. Pandora would most likely leave England and take up residence in a place where she could produce her games. Gabriel had no desire to find himself chasing after her across the continent, or possibly all the way to America. No, he had to persuade her to marry him now.
But what the devil could he offer that would mean more to her than her freedom?
By the time Pandora had finished the story, the castle was completed. Justin regarded the tiny crab with awe. He demanded to hear more about Shelley’s adventures with the herring gull, and Pandora laughed.
“I’ll tell you another story,” she said, “while we carry him back to the rocks where you found him. I’m sure he misses his family by now.” They clambered to their feet, and Justin carefully lifted the crab from his perch on a castle turret. As they headed toward the water, Ajax left the shade beneath the bathing-machine and trotted after them.
When they were out of earshot, Ivo announced, “I like her.”
Seraphina grinned at her younger brother. “Last week you said you were finished with girls.”
“Pandora’s a different kind of girl. Not like the ones who are afraid to touch frogs and are always talking about their hair.”
Gabriel barely listened to the exchange, his gaze fastened on Pandora’s retreating form. She went to the verge of the high water mark where the sand was glossy, and stopped to pick up an interesting shell. Glimpsing another one behind her, she retrieved that as well, and another. She would have continued if Justin hadn’t seized her hand and tugged her back on course.
Good God, she really did walk in circles. A pang of tenderness centered in Gabriel’s chest like an ache.
He wanted all her circles to lead back to him.
“We should leave soon,” Phoebe said, “if we’re to have time to wash and dress for dinner.”
Seraphina stood, grimacing at her sand-encrusted hands and arms. “I’m all sandy and sticky. I’m going to rinse off what I can in the water.”
“I’ll collect the kites and pails,” Ivo said.
Phoebe waited until their younger siblings had gone before speaking. “I overheard part of your conversation with Pandora,” she said. “Your voices carried across the sand.”