Page 111 of A Touch of Charm
“Sounds like it’s an oxen!” Mary looked up with bright eyes, her pencil pausing mid-stroke. Catching sight of Thea, she beamed with pride. “Oh, Thea! We are studying anatomy!”
“Is that so?” Thea replied, stepping into the room fully. Her eyes met Andre’s briefly, and she felt herself flush at the warm spark in his gaze, one that seemed to glow only for her. The smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she found herself momentarily breathless.
“I had a short break between patients,” Andre explained, his tone light but his eyes lingering on hers, “and our apprentice nurse here had a few queries. I thought answering them would be a productive use of our time.”
Thea approached with a soft laugh, holding out the letter. “Speaking of productive use of time, Mary, I’ve just received word from your mother. She has given you permission to attend our wedding.”
Mary’s pencil clattered to the floor as she clasped her hands together, her face lighting up with joy. “Oh, Thea! Truly? I can come?”
“Truly,” Thea said warmly.
With a delighted squeal, Mary hopped off the stool, leaving her sketch behind as she darted past Thea. “I must tell everyone! Everyone must know!” she called out as she disappeared down the hall, her voice fading into the hum of the busy house.
Andre chuckled softly, stepping closer to Thea. “She’s certainly not lacking in enthusiasm.”
“She never is,” Thea agreed, but her words faltered as Andre took another step toward her. His gaze now held a simmering intensity, and her heart gave a small, traitorous leap.
“You know,” he said quietly, his voice rich and low, “nobody is more excited for this wedding than I am.”
Before she could summon a reply—or even banter some light tease in return—Andre leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that banished all coherent thought. It was not the gentle, tentative sort of kiss one might expect in a quiet corner of Cloverdale House, but rather the kind that left her utterly breathless, dizzy, and wholly undone.
When at last they parted, his forehead rested against hers, and the unspoken promise of all that lay ahead filled the small space between them.
“My Princess Thea,” he murmured, her name on his lips an unspoken vow.
She smiled softly, her body humming with warmth as she glanced at the open doorway. Somewhere down the hall, Mary was no doubt regaling the staff with her news. And right here, in this quiet moment, with Andre at her side, Thea felt the future spread before her, bright and limitless.
This was happiness.
This was love.
And the rest of her life began now.
*
