“What should we do,” Langley replied. “If you are to be my wife, I will share any of these worries you have. And hopefully be able to solve them.”
“Then what are we to do?”
“First,” Langley said, “I need some food. Those half-eaten sandwiches will not suffice.”
“That is not a practical solution for finding my sister.”
“It is immensely practical.”
“Then what?”
“Then I suggest we retire to your bedroom,” Langley said, and laughed at the look of outrage on Margot’s face. Teasing her would never cease to amuse him.
“In all seriousness, what shall we do?”
He liked that she used the term ‘we’—that was what they would be. A unit set about to solve, support, and aid, as well as love each other. “Tomorrow we will announce our engagement to your shocked staff, or least the ones who pretend to be shocked. I will secure us a marriage licence.”
“Don’t they take weeks?”
“I am sure I have some relative or similar who can speed up the process.”
“And this hasty marriage will?—”
“Will allow us to travel down to Cornwall, and find wherever your wayward sister has gotten to. And her elusive duke.”
“I doubt his grace would appreciate that moniker. Or being labelled as Elsie’s.”
“If the man is under forty and over twenty, I suspect that the poor noble will not have any other choice, not if Elsie is remotely like you.”
Margot frowned as she dwelt on his words, before finally nodding her assent. A joyful spurt of energy caught hold of Langley, and he lifted her up in his arms and spun her round.
“Are you really that excited about getting some food?” Margot asked as she was finally lowered back to the ground, but to his relief did not step out of the shelter of his arms.
“No, I find myself far more pleased at all the other things you have agreed to,” Langley said, leaning down and sealing her lips against his in an all-consuming kiss, delighted to finally be at one with his Amazon.
THE END
