Page 108 of Charming Artemis

Artemis offered a tremulous smile. “I will try.”

Once Persephone had retaken her seat, the hat filled with slips of paper was taken up once more. Artemis’s name was drawn. Then Charlie’s.

She entrusted her precious miniature to Marjie, who sat nearby, then joined Charlie in front of them all.

She turned to face him, strained memories of this same situation rushing over her. He’d humiliated her, insisted the possibility of kissing her was so abhorrent to him that he would rather do anything else. But so much had changed between them since then. She felt entirely certainthisnight’s undertaking would play out differently. He would know to allow her a moment to formulate an easily answered question, one they could laugh about before returning to their seats. And there would be no humiliating rejections.

Charlie slipped an arm around her. “What should I choose, Artie?” he whispered.

“What would you like to choose?” She traced the outline of one of his brass jacket buttons with her finger.

“Might be interesting to hear what question you’d ask.” He bent his arm enough to pull her up flush with him. “And I’d very much enjoy discovering what odd task you might set me to.”

“Iamvery creative.” She set her palm on his chest.

His other arm wrapped around her, enveloping her in an embrace so close, so tight that the warmth of him seeped through every inch of her. “You are also very,verytempting.” His voice had taken on a husky edge. His breathtaking blue eyes crackled with heat, lighting answering flames of anticipation in her.

He bent close. She tipped her head enough to all but close the minute distance between his lips and hers.

“I choose the forfeit, Artie.”

He kissed her. Not the quick peck on the cheek or polite kiss on the hand she’d thought he might choose the last time they’d played this game. His warm, soft lips met hers, fervent and tender.

Artemis slid her hands up and over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her heart beat an ardent rhythm, a cadence filled with the promise of a lifetime of love.

Against her lips, he whispered, “I will always choose the forfeit.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Artemis pushed the wheeled chairthe Jonquil brothers had designed and Philip had requested the local blacksmith make as she entered the small sitting room at the front of the house. She’d been entrusted with the task of convincing Sorrel to use the contraption, and she didn’t mean to fail in the undertaking. She loved this family too much to let any of them down.

Sorrel looked away from the window and over at Artemis as she approached. As her eyes fell on the chair, her mouth pulled into a hard line. Artemis had learned from years of living with Adam that when approaching a hard-nosed individual with something he or she didn’t care for, it was best to cut off the objections before they began.

“Do you remember when we were in this room the day Mater’s gentlemen friends arrived and I asked you if you would like to stroll about the grounds with me?” Artemis sat in the wheeled chair, fully confident its design would prevent her from spilling onto the floor. “You told me you would rather stay inside with everyone else. I didn’t cry, something I’m still quite proud of, but the rejection was exceptionally painful.”

Confusion gave way to understanding, which slipped aside as remorse took hold of Sorrel’s expression.

Artemis pressed onward. “I came to realize, though, that there might be a different explanation for your refusal to spend a pleasant hour with me strolling about the grounds. There was a chance, slim though I had to acknowledge it to be, that you did not feel yourself equal to the physical demands of a stroll rather than repelled by the idea of spending that brief interlude with me in particular.”

Artemis kept her own expression neutral and her gaze languidly on the focus of the monologue, just as she’d seen Adam do time and again. And, as she’d seen him do, she didn’t allow an answer until she had fully laid the groundwork.

“But then, my dear sister-in-law, your husband and mine, with a bit of input from their brothers and the expert hand of the local blacksmith, designed this remarkable chair, which would overcome the hurdles that I assume prevented you from accepting the invitation I extended and the one you have yet to use.” Artemis leaned an elbow on an arm of the chair and rested her temple against her upturned fingers. “So which is it, I have to wonder? Did you, in fact, turn me away because you did not yet have the means of undertaking that stroll? Or did you toss aside my vulnerably extended hand of friendship because you despise me and wish I weren’t a member of your family?”

The corner of Sorrel’s mouth twitched. “You are quite good at this.”

Artemis lifted a single shoulder. “I was raised by the Dangerous Duke. He taught me well.”

“I do not care for wheeled chairs.”

Artemis tapped at her chin with one finger, making quite a show of thinking deeply. “I do not believe that is the question I asked.”

With a sigh, Sorrel said, “I do notneeda wheeled chair.”

“Then you did refuse because you despise me.” She let her shoulders slump in an overly dramatic show of injured feelings. “I have feared that from the beginning. Oh merciful heavens! Horrid turn of events!” She turned the chair around and began pushing herself slowly from the room.

“You can move the chair on your own? No one needs to push it?”

Artemis continued her departure, keeping her pace snaillike. “What difference does it make? You don’t need it or want it. You simply despise me and nothing else.”

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