Page 75 of The Number of Love
He couldn’t blame her for the probing. Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure himself where he stood. He’d always imagined himself married to a woman who fit the mold his mother had set forth—to raise their family, to be there when he got home of an evening, to be thepillar of strength behind him while he went out into the world to support them.
There was nothing wrong with that image. His mother had thrived in the role, as Dot would do. But it was what theywanted. Not so for Margot.
And he couldn’t quite imagine anyone else in that traditional place by his side, not now that he’d met her. He didn’t know what marriage to her would look like. Didn’t even know if she’d agree to it anytime soon, whether she came to care for him or not. But one thing he grew more certain of with every conversation they had.
She was worth waiting for. Worth seeking hour by hour, day by day, month by month. Year by year. Even if it took him a decade to convince her to be his, it would be worth it. And the wait would only make him appreciate her all the more.
His work in the field had taught him patience. Perseverance. Lessons he’d use now, with her.
For now, it was enough to peel potatoes by her side, if that’s all she’d grant him. He smiled and turned back to it, only glancing over at her now and then. “One thing I’ve learned about you already, Margot De Wilde—you’re a formidable force when you’ve set your mind to a thing. You’ll find a place at whatever university you want. So ... which do you fancy?”
Her posture shifted, her shoulders easing into the relaxed posture that they’d taken on when speaking of her family. Of people or places she loved. “King’s College. Several of the cryptographers are from there—I think I’d be a good fit.”
And it was in London. Excellent. “You don’t mean to go back to Belgium?”
“To visit. But it isn’t home anymore. Assuming, of course, that I’m allowed to stay here.”
Dot laughed. “I imagine DID can pull a few strings for you, Margot.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Drake smiled into his spuds. He would count on it too.
23
Ilove towatch youand tryto imaginethe thoughtspouring throughyour mind.Are theyordered andcalm ora whirlingdervish thatwould mystifyme? Ipicture themlike awhirlwind, eachthought abejeweled raindrop.Beautiful stormsof brilliance.
Margot let the words play through her mind again, as they’d been doing all morning when she ought to have been paying attention to the liturgy. Against her will, her eyes tracked Drake where he exchanged a few discreet murmurs with an old friend he’d discovered was in the parish. It was the first he’d made it out of the flat for Mass. He seemed to be reveling in it.
“You seem rather intent on a certain someone.” Willa at least whispered the words, though she made no attempt to disguise the amusement in them.
“I haven’t the foggiest notion what you mean.” Margot snatched her gaze away from Drake and focused it instead on Zurie, who made a happy noise and then lunged for her. They were making their way to the exit by means of a side aisle, and the going was rather slow.
She caught her niece, dropped a kiss upon her curls, and waited to see if being preoccupied with thoughts of a man made any urges for a little one of her own spring to life. But she found, as always, that her love for Zurie in particular didn’t seem to extend to the thought of babies in general. Was there something the matter with her?
Each thought a bejeweled raindrop.
Hardly, just now. More like a rain puddle, cloudy and grey.
Willa chuckled and looked over at where Drake was moving toward the narthex with his friend. “Right. No notion at all, I’m sure. You do know he asked Lukas’s permission to court you, don’t you?”
“What?” Her gaze snapped back to Willa from where it had strayed to him again. Something buzzed in her veins, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was anger or pleasure. “When was this?”
“Oh, at your birthday dinner.” Willa lifted her brows and adjusted Zurie’s little ruffled bonnet. “Hasn’t he followed up on it? I thought perhaps with all the dinners you’d been eating over there...”
“No. I mean, he’s attentive, but he’s attentive to everyone. His sister and Holmes as well as me.” The only thing different in his treatment was the way his eyes lingered. And the letters.
He looked up now and caught her gaze—which had again gone his way, blast it all. Smiled.
Bother. Drat. Blast. Why did he do this to her? It wasn’t that she looked at him and went all weak-kneed over his knotted nose or his silver-blue eyes, the way the secretaries said happened when they saw a handsome man. Not that he was unpleasant to look at, but what were good looks, really? Just inherited features from parents, arranged symmetrically.
He praised her beauty in those letters. But no more often than he praised her mind. Her heart.
Was this really how Drake Elton courted a girl?
Half of her mouth returned his smile before she could help it. Which made her all the more frustrated when she turned back to hiss a quiet reply to Willa. “I’m not going to fall in love, so stop smirking at me like that. He’s a friend. That’s all.”
Willa pressed her lips against a laugh that would earn her a few scalding glares if she let it loose and took her daughter back. They were finally only a few steps from the narthex, where conversation wasn’t quite so restricted. “I thought I’d have to wait decades to see you like this. Rather delicious irony that of all the girls to fall in love at a young age, it happens toyou.”
