“He cares for you very much,” Margaret said.
A smile pulled at the side of Alexander’s mouth. “Just Carlisle?”
“No...” She slipped off the desk and came to stand beside him. Alexander grabbed her, pulling him into his lap, where she fit like the last piece of a puzzle. “I care about you very much, too. More than very much. I...”
“I love you,” Alexander said for her.
Margaret went quiet, softening in his arms.
“Now, that’s awfully confusing,” she replied, playfully. “Is that what you predicted I would say, or is that what you?—”
“I love you, Margaret.” He kissed her, ending any further arguments. It was a useful yet highly satisfying tactic he intended to employ again. “Is that quite clear enough for you?”
“Perfectly.” She paused, eyes roving his face. “It should come as no surprise at all that I love you too... Shall I give you that list now, of all the things about you that used to irk me but no longer do? I could start a new list of all the things I like about you instead. First of which, of course, is your incredible charity. Second, your tolerance for the press. Third, your ability to stay upright on a horse despite coming in and out of consciousness... Shall I go on?”
“Perhaps later, for I can think of a much better use of this time alone.”
Alexander laughed softly, taking Margaret and setting her on top of the desk. He kissed her deeply, relishing the power of her kiss as she returned it, hands looping around his neck.
They broke apart suddenly at the sound of something clattering to the floor.
Looking down, he saw his pocket-watch lying face up, a crack having splintered the glass from its impact with the floor.
“Oh, no,” Margaret said, already slipping away from him. "Your poor watch...”
“Let time remain broken in this moment,” he said. “I need only you to measure my days beside.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Bastian said, squinting into the afternoon light.
Alexander turned from the view of the manor. “That never bodes well.”
“If I’m to disappear again, I should like it to be under more romantic circumstances next time. Somewhere with sea views, a woman who speaks no English...”
"That would make it remarkably more difficult to locate and save you.”
“I will not need saving again, though I am grateful to my rescuers.” He paused, tapping his cane against the ground. “Those rag writers on the other hand... They will never have my gratitude.”
“You could write them,” Alexander suggested. “Tell them they have the story wrong. Whether they will believe you is another matter entirely—although they were not too far from the truth tobegin with. You did escape with whom you thought was Isadore, did plan to marry her...”
“I thought it was the right thing to do. I was trying tohelpyou.” Bastian grinned. “But as for setting the record straight... I’d rather not. I’m hoping my ordeal will paint me in a positive light next season. A young, wounded romantic, swept away on the currents of love... No need to mention my being abducted by a woman, nor the pathetic sight of me, I’m sure, as I writhed around on the floor like a worm, bound and gagged.”
“You’ve had laudanum this morning.”
“A small amount. Augusta doled it out like it was wine. I’m thinking of marrying her.”
Alexander laughed. “Margaret won’t like that.”
“No. And we cannot displease your dear duchess. I will have to settle for another.”
“Not Miss Diana Dawson-Duff?”
Bastian’s eyes went wide.
“Perhaps not,” he replied, tapping the plinth with his cane. “She, erm... She cast me off before I left London. I didn’t want to say anything, thought perhaps there was a chance I could reconcile with her when her family returned from Yorkshire. But now that I’ve had time to think about things—on my deathbed, I mean—I don’t think she’s quite right for me. I should at least marry someone wholikesme.”
“That does tend to be an important prerequisite to love.”
Though not always necessary from a first meeting,he thought sardonically.
