Page 50 of The Dreaming Beauty
A teasing glint unlike any she had seen before lined his eyes and tugged at his mouth. “Oh?” In an instant, he was around her and racing through the willow branches.
Blast!She chased after him, with Daisy on her heels.
He scooped up her project, and when she attempted to steal it from his hands, he raised it above his head. “Careful, miss. I would not have you damage such a piece of art.”
“Art? Hardly!” She laughed and jumped to reach it, but Marcus was a whole head taller than she was, and her fingers fell through the air. It was a very good thing she loved Daisy so there was at least a purpose behind her humiliation.
Marcus turned and brought the wood closer for examination. The two boards were riddled with nails along their ends, some crooked, others only half-inserted. “Ah, this is an easy enough fix. Daisy, fetch the bucket of clay I have by my horse. Add a bit of water to it and bring it here, if you please.”
“Clay?” Daisy’s excited squeal followed her from the trees.
“It is hideous; admit it,” Tansy said.
“Quite so, but if it weren’t for a few imperfections, then I would not have the excuse to stay, now, would I?”
If only her own imperfections were so enticing. “You are too kind, Marcus. People must be demanding things from you right and left with an attitude such as this.”
“An attitude of kindness?” Marcus chuckled. “You say it as if it is a great vice of mine.” He leaned over and picked through the wood scraps Daisy had piled together. He selected a long piece and quickly broke it over his knee.
Tansy gasped. “Did that hurt?”
“Not at all.” He lined the new pieces up against her two connected sides. They were all about the same length now. “Hand me two nails.” He picked up the hammer and stretched out his hand to her.
“I am afraid I used them all,” she said sheepishly.
“No matter.” He flipped one of the boards over and pounded out a few nails with little damage to their tips. He was a wonder. Just as quickly, he put the nails in the right position and thwacked them into place. After the effort she had made earlier, Tansy nearly swooned at his abilities. While the ladies of thetonwere searching for the perfect man in the ballrooms of London, she had found him working in the dirt in his shirtsleeves, with a hammer in one hand and his other outstretched to her.
“Could you hand me the nail by your foot, please?”
She picked it up and set it in his hand. It was a shame they were characters living in two different stories. Another swing of the hammer and another nail slid right into the intended spot. If only she could insert herself into his world as smoothly as one of those nails into its place. But even though the wood scraps varied in size and were coming together to form an adorable little house, she and Marcus were people. And people did not always fit together, did they?
* * *
“You have outdone yourself today. We are indebted to you.” Mrs. Wood gave Marcus a grateful smile. She and Mrs. Palmer had brought out the tea service, and they had all gathered under the willows and sat on an outstretched blanket for a quick reprieve.
Marcus drank the tepid tea Mrs. Palmer handed him and returned the teacup to her. “We shall only be another quarter hour, and I will take my leave.”
“Iris,” Mrs. Wood said. “Help me return these tea things to the house before my china is accidentally smashed underfoot.”
Iris nodded, and after a moment, the willow branches closed back around Daisy, Tansy, and Marcus.
“Are you ready for the clay?” Daisy asked for the thirtieth time.
He leaned back and admired the two crude houses he’d constructed. They weren’t his best work, but he did not know when he’d be able to return. It was better to leave a finished project and keep Daisy satisfied. “Yes, I believe some clay will help seal up the uneven edges.” He moved the houses onto the dirt, knowing the clay would mar the blanket.
Daisy stopped stirring the clay and handed him the coated stick.
Marcus scooped it up and plastered the seams of one of the houses. “Do you want to try?”
Daisy nodded and began coating the second house.
He watched Tansy observe her aunt’s work. She was so gentle, and the love she had for Daisy was unmistakable. She glanced his way and smiled. There had been a playful air between them since he had discovered her version of a fairy house, and he had not for a moment regretted coming to help. “What about you?” Marcus asked Tansy.
“Me?”
“Yes, masonry is a form of art. I thought you might be anxious to try your hand at it.”
“It does look fun.”
