Tobias laughed. They all did. She was an inspired storyteller. He’d noticed it in the garden when she’d told him about the day she was born and how she’d come by her name. She’d not been as interested in telling that story, but she’d still told it well.
“You have a talent for storytelling,” Henrietta said, once she’d caught her breath. “Please, do call me Henrietta.”
Maggie beamed, nodded. “And call me Maggie.”
Tobias leaned infinitesimally closer. “And callmewhatever you wish, Lady Magnificent,” he whispered for her ears alone.
His words must have unsettled her on some level. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her cheeks pinked, and her breath hitched. But her next words declared she’d ignore whatever it was he’d made her feel. “I’m sorry if you were expecting something a bit grander from theruins. Theyaredisappointing.”
Lord Rigsby waved away her words. “I’m fascinated, actually. These large stones look real. Theyarereal. Do they come from elsewhere on the estate?”
Tobias flopped onto his back with an eyeroll. “Rocks, Gray? Really? We’re lolling in a miracle of a day, a lone warmish afternoon in what is sure to be months of cold, cloudy gloom, and you wish to talk of rocks?” He threw an arm over his eyes. “Can we return to talk of ritual sacrifice? Please?”
Maggie laughed and scrunched her nose. “No, thank you.” She turned to Grayson. “I’m not entirely sure where the rocks hail from.” She rubbed her hand over the top of the large stone. “But they don’t have the same texture the other rocks on the estate have. I do not think they are from here. They do not look natural plopped out here, do they?” She looked about them at the grassy field where they’d laid a blanket and opened a picnic basket. Then, with the suddenness of a surprise storm on the horizon, she turned to Tobias. “What would you like to speak of if not rocks?”
She looked down at him with inquisitive merriment, her face outlined by a bright blue sky. All the air in the world disappeared and he lifted his head to … do what? Kiss her? He could not kiss her. Not yet. Not until he’d convinced her to marry him. He resettled his head on the hard ground, wishing it was her soft lap.
He offered her a close-lipped smile that spread into a toothy grin as he realized exactly how he would answer her question. “Secrets.” She had a few, no doubt, including but not limited to whatever it was she constantly doodled in that sketchbook she carried about with her.
Her entire body stilled. If he touched her, she might very well disintegrate and blow away in the wind.
He laughed and pushed to a sitting position. “Do not despair, Pocket Princess, I’m not serious. Secrets are for midnight trysts and scented gardens.” He picked a blade of grass so close to her skirts his fingers brushed the soft material. “Not for sunny days and, ahem, company.” He turned a pointed stare at his sister and brother-in-law.
The pair in question leaped to their feet.
“I’m feeling like a quick jaunt, Grayson,” Henrietta said, leaning into his side. “Accompany me?”
Grayson dipped and kissed his wife’s temple. “Wither you go, I follow.”
And they were gone, leaving Tobias alone with Lady Magnificent. But how to proceed? He’d told her the truth of his intentions and desires multiple times. He wanted to marry her. But each time he’d spoken of it, he’d walked the words back after she’d stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. First, when he’d proposed marriage in the garden, and then when he’d suggested they reveal their secrets to one another. Yes, both propositions were out of the ordinary, but she was out of the ordinary.
And he needed to marry her. After two days of watching her make her way through whispers and stares and ill-advised marriage proposals by novelist twits, he’d come to that very immovable decision. They must wed. He’d not meant to compromise her, and perhaps she’d actually compromised him, but the world would never see it that way, and if they didn’t marry, the world would never accept her.
A tragedy, that. And if he could fix it—if he could save her—he would. Unfortunately, she was not responding well to his advances. Perhaps he could find out why. He picked himself up and sat on the low, flat stone, patting the space beside him. “Join me, Lady Mags.”
She frowned, then turned thoughtful. “I’m not sure if I like that better or worse than my proper name.” She remained seated on the blanket.
Let her remain. He placed his palms on the stone behind him and stretched out his legs in front. “Both names have their uses. But allow me to change the subject. I’m going to anyway, though, so I don’t know why I ask for your approval.”
“Go ahead then, change away.”
“It’s more of a return to an old subject, a subject abandoned before it had even begun.”
“Oh?”
“Secrets.”
“I thought a sunny day was no time for such talk.”
“No doubt this is a universal truth, but what I have in mind is less serious. And a bit of nonsense is always welcome when the sun is out and the sky is blue.”
“Agreed. A bit of nonsense is exactly what I need right now. But I’m afraid I do not have much practice with nonsense. You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
“It’s easy, really. We play a game. You tell me my secrets, and I tell you yours.”
“My, thatisabsurd.” She smiled, slowly, as if waking from a pleasant dream. He hoped he featured heavily in it.
“I’ll begin.” He crossed his legs at the ankles and fidgeted with his top foot, watching the toe of his boot push the long shoots of grass back and forth. “Secret one: You do not like me.”
