“Nothing impetuous about it, my dear. I have been pondering this formiles.”
With a tone of utter mischief, she said, “If only I had a glass of raspberry shrub at my disposal. That puts a decided damper on certain people’s enthusiasm.”
He laughed full and loud. Of late, Charlie had discovered how truly funny Artemis was. They would likely spend the rest of their lives laughing, and he was looking forward to it.
She set her hands on either side of his face and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I do like the sound of your laugh, Charlie.”
“And I love the feel of you in my arms.” He brushed his fingers over a loose curl falling over her shoulder. “And the softness of your hair.” He slid his hand along her neck and tilted her head enough to allow him to press a kiss to the tender spot just beneath her ear. “And the incomparable pleasure of kissing you.”
She sighed and leaned into him. Charlie shifted his attention and kissed her lips, fully and deeply, filling the salute with the love that daily filled his heart to increasing degrees. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She whispered his name between kisses, and he was well and truly gone.
He’d been taken by surprise when his feelings for her had first been described as love; he knew now how very true it had been.
The carriage rolled to a stop. Charlie didn’t immediately pull back. He kept her in his arms, held close, his forehead pressed to hers.
“I believe we’re home, Charlie,” she said quietly.
He smiled. “Home.” He had every confidence it would finally feel that way; it certainly hadn’t when they’d left.
Mr. and Mrs. Giles were standing just outside the front door when Charlie and Artemis alighted from the carriage some minutes later. They were warmly welcomed home.
Mrs. Giles met Charlie’s eye. “A very heavy crate has arrived for you, sir.”
“Truly?” He wasn’t expecting anything.
He glanced at Artemis and saw a barely concealed grin.
“What have you done?” he asked.
“You’ve sorted me, Charlie. I’ve been plotting.”
Now he was decidedly intrigued. Of Mrs. Giles, he asked, “Where is this crate?”
“It was carried to the bookroom, Mr. Jonquil.”
Charlie tipped his eyes enough in Artemis’s direction to gage her response. She gave away nothing. He took her hand, and they walked together from the entryway, up the stairs, and to the bookroom.
There was, indeed, a crate awaiting him there. It was smaller than a traveling trunk. He paced around it while Artemis settled onto the sofa.
“I expected it to be larger,” he said.
“Ididn’t.” A year earlier, her dramatic playacting would have bothered him. He knew her better now, enough that he enjoyed the absurdity she so easily brought into their lives.
Mr. Giles had kindly left a crowbar for him. In a matter of minutes, he had the lid raised and the contents revealed.
He looked to Artemis. “Books?”
“And papers,” she said. “I wrote to Newton and asked him what a mathematics-obsessed young academic would need in his home library in order to fully pursue his interests, especially if that intellectual was soon to be presenting a lecture to the Royal Society.”
“And this is what he sent?”
“He wrote to Toss—an interesting name if ever I heard one—and someone he called Duke—notthe dukeorthe Duke of Something-or-Other,simply Duke—and someone else named Poppy, who, apparently, is actually a gentleman.”
Charlie grinned. “Those are my closest mates.”
She looked intrigued. “Well, those ‘closest mates’ of yours gathered this collection of books, papers, and other such things. I was told these would make your home library a better stand-in for what you would have had if you’d been permitted to continue at Cambridge.”
A hint of guilt had entered her expression and voice. Charlie abandoned the crate despite his immense curiosity and moved to sit on the sofa beside her.
