Page 67 of Married By Twelfth Night
“Yes, sir.”
When he left Mr. Steele’s office, he heaved a sigh. Grace appeared in the corridor like an apparition inspired by his desire to see her. She wore her cloak and mittens and an excited smile.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“On a sleigh ride with you, of course.”
He laughed and extended his hand. “Then by all means, let’s be on our way.”
Once they were bundled beneath a heavy wool blanket inside the sleigh, and being pulled just beyond Callis Hall’s drive, he was ready to answer the set of questioning eyes next to him.
“Yes, I met with your father to ask for your hand.”
She feigned innocence. “Oh? Is that what you were doing? And did he happen to give you an answer?”
“He did.”
“And?”
He shrugged.
A swift elbow met his ribs. He chuckled, putting both the reins in one hand so he could put his other around her. “He gave his permission.”
She squealed and kissed his cheek.
“It will take time to get settled at the cottage, find tenants for Belside, and make certain our finances are stable.” He hesitated before he said the hardest part. “It could be a year or more before we can wed.”
She did not say anything, and a quick glance did not reveal her feelings. The horses were already walking at a slow pace, but he pulled them to a stop and turned to her.
“What do you think?” he asked. “I want your complete honesty.” As for him, after the ache of not knowing if they could be together, it felt like a lifetime to wait any longer. He caught a glimpse of the same longing, but she hid it behind a smile.
Grace set her hand on his arm. “Let’s wed one year from now, on Twelfth Night.”
There was energy in her statement—excitement—and it relieved his worries.
“Why not? All month the idea of Twelfth Night and weddings have been tied together in my mind. The only part missing was the image of you by my side.”
She leaned into his shoulder and he tucked the fur blanket more securely around her. “I might be by your side forever now, but don’t let my complete devotion go to your head.”
He set the horses to walking again. “It’s too late. My hat is already feeling tight from the swelling.”
She nudged him. “It is a good thing I love more than just your appearance.”
“Indeed? Then what is it about me that finally won you over?”
“Your kiss.”
“Is that all?” he laughed.
“Your aunt was not all wrong. Holidays are romantic. A mistletoe kiss can be very convincing.”
“Are you suggesting that your regard for me is entirely unrelated to my own merits?”
One brow lifted. “Kissing is an important quality. Had I not learned of your skill, you might not have succeeded in winning my heart.”
“I suppose I will have to keep doing so to remind you to care for me.”
“You had better get started. This path is too short to waste any more time.”
