Page 54 of The Marquis, the Minx, and the Mistletoe
She fell quickly in step with him, Echo trailing happily behind, but made no move to take his arm or otherwise touch him, which only served to sharpen the pain that already thrummed dully in his chest. He did his best not to look at her, for surely if he did, he would lose all sense and try to embrace her, which clearly she did not want.
"I have reviewed all of the star clues this morning," she said briskly, also keeping her eyes forward as they walked in stiff unison. "If you like, I will assist you in locating one before the gift exchange at luncheon."
"Oh, the damned stars!" He sighed, the pain over his eye stabbing into his skull again. "I forgot about the stars. Are any left at all?"
"A couple," she said, stealing a glance at him. "I thought we might search for the dowager's. I've a suspicion of where it might be."
He gaped at her, stopping dead in his tracks.
The dowager's clue read:I am, above all, love.
Was she taunting him? She looked so damned earnest. He could not bring himself to shatter the wide-eyed hope on her face, no matter how much he wanted to demand she explain herself. He thought, perhaps, he was entitled to taunt her a little in return. After all, she did say she could forgive an atmosphere of war.
"That is my favorite of your dresses," he said, eyeing her figure in the tight cranberry lace. "The color suits you well."
"Oh." She blushed, which only served to complement the gown more. "It is not mine. It is Glory's. But I shall relay the compliment."
"It doesn't look as well on Glory," he persisted, enjoying her fluster. "You might ask her to make it a gift to you."
"Oh, I couldn't do that," she murmured. "It is a sight too small on me anyhow."
"Yes, that is part of its charm," he said with a wolfish grin.
She took a sharp breath, shaking her head as though to clear it, and stopped, turning to look at him in a very somber and serious manner. "It is the first part of the clue that struck me," she said, extremely businesslike. "The wordabovemakes me think it might be hidden somewhere in the ceiling or rafters. Have you any ideas on that score?"
His stomach grumbled again, which made her eyes briefly drop to it and her lips turn down in a frown, but she did not otherwise acknowledge it. Despite all that had passed between them, the stringent rules of polite etiquette were ingrained too deeply in her.
"What if we start in the kitchens?" he suggested, enjoying the way she continued to color around her cheeks. "Might solve two problems at once that way."
"But luncheon is very soon," she protested. "You will spoil your appetite."
He was already turning to progress, clicking his tongue so that Echo would follow. "Madam, I truly thought you would have realized by now," he said lightly, "my appetite is insatiable."
Chapter 26
They spent two and a half fruitless hours searching multiple light fixtures, window frames, mirrors, and paintings, and Sheldon spent the entire time brewing on a question that he was almost afraid to ask. When the bell finally rang for luncheon, he knew it was his last opportunity. He had long since ceased to care about the stars anyhow, he simply liked how Miss Everstead's eyes lingered upon him when he could effortlessly reach spaces that were too high for her to manage.
The chiming of that bell startled them both into stillness, frozen halfway through their latest inspection of several high shelves. She turned to him with those wide, uncertain eyes, and he had no choice but to ask now or forever wonder what she'd meant.
"Ah well," he said with a shrug, cursing himself internally, "we put in a solid effort. Shall we to luncheon?"
"Sheldon," she said, lowering her voice as people began to move in the halls toward the sound of the meal bell. "You have not yet accepted my apology."
It seemed that fate was going to force him to ask after all. He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and averting his eyes. "It is only that I do not know what, specifically, you are apologizing for."
She blinked rapidly, looking almost as though she wanted to smile for a moment before giving her curls a shake and clearing her throat. "I suppose 'everything' is not a satisfactory answer to that question? No, I can see that it is not. That is understandable. Sheldon, I should never have suspected you of anything but earnestness. You are a good man, but I know upon reflection that you would not propose to me out of pity, and I am ashamed of how I let such negative emotions run away with me. I also failed to confirm my love for you when the essential moment arrived, for which I carry much regret.
"I do not expect you to pretend as though none of it happened, nor do I expect your offer to remain unchanged. I will only say that, should you decide to propose to me again, knowing how flawed I am in moments of high emotion and still wanting me anyway, that from this day forward, I will always choose you over anyone else. I do not want the baron or my father's approval as much as I want your good graces and company. So, I am sorry that I ever made you think otherwise."
Sheldon felt rather slack-jawed by the time she had finished speaking, which was likely quite a relief to his jaw after the night he'd given it. He searched his mind for things to say, but he felt in that moment as though she could have reached out and tipped him over with nothing more than the strength of her dainty finger.
It was his stomach that answered her instead, giving another humiliating rumble of demand in lieu of all the words he might have said in this moment.
To his surprise, this made her giggle. She was not standing there with her arms crossed and her foot tapping, awaiting his response, but rather she felt freed, having issued her apology in full.
"Come on," she said, taking his arm and nodding toward the dining room. "Let's get some food in that belly."
And he followed her, for what else was he supposed to do?
