Page 65 of Sweetling
“All right,” she said.
She opened one of the doors before the other went flying open and the drawers began to open one after the other, making a harmony. The house opened and closed the cedar trunk lid as if it clapped.Finally,it seemed to say.
“I know, I know,” she laughed. “I just do things in my own time is all.”
The house rattled the shutters in what sounded like laughter to her. Molly laughed along, folding and hanging her things.
She couldn’t help a smidge of trepidation as her things disappeared into drawers and the trunk lid shut. The room almost looked bare once she finished—or at least, she could see the floorboards. There was still a line of vases full of bouquets atop the dresser. The flowers Allarion left never seemed to wilt or die.
With more space freed up, she redistributed the bouquets around the room.
Pleased with the bursts of color, Molly planted her hands on her hips and nodded. All of Allarion’s pestering about this wallpaper and those curtains made a bit more sense now; he wanted her opinion on fixing up the house, and he’d gotten her thinking about where things would look best.
Decorating wasn’t something she had much experience with, but given the chance, she thought she could come to quite like it.
A vase full of foxgloves sat waiting for her when she opened her bedchamber door. Her smile was uncontrollable as she bent to retrieve it, and she took the gift with her down to the kitchen.
Allarion began to smile when she entered the kitchen, but the sight of the flowers had him looking suddenly serious.
“Are the flowers not to your liking?”
“I like them a lot. So much, I want to look at them today.” She positioned the flowers behind the kitchen sink, in the window that looked out at the forest beyond. The growing morning sunshine caught in the blue and purple cones, giving them a velveteen quality.
That smile took flight on his face, although Molly suspected he contained the full scope of his happiness at her liking his gift. Charmed, she went about preparing her breakfast as they made light chatter, talking of the weather and the work for the day.
“And what am I to do?” she asked as her oats boiled.
“Whatever you want to do,” was his sweet but unhelpful answer.
“I’ve already laid in bed and wandered aimlessly for days. What if I helped you with your project today?”
“Absolutely not.”
She looked up in surprise to hear his vehemence.
Allarion shook his head, quickly amending, “Forgive me, sweetling. It’s only, I’ll be finishing the roof today and under no circumstances will I have you up there. It’s dangerous.” He lowered his head, looking at her from beneath his rigid brows. “This is one of those matters of safety I spoke of.”
Molly nodded in agreement. “All right. I don’t really relish the idea of getting on the roof anyways.”
His shoulders sagged in relief, making her notice how stiffly he’d been holding himself in anticipation of her answer.
“I could keep you company, then?”
She glanced up to see his reaction as she poured her steaming oats into a bowl. A blush crept onto her cheeks to see the way his expression went soft at her suggestion.
“I would like that very much.”
Decided, Molly made quick work of her breakfast and then followed Allarion to see about his project. He showed her the dwindling pile of blue-gray shingles, already loaded onto a pulley. Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he took one end of the rope and began to pull, hoisting the heavy load up, up, up the four stories to the roof.
Molly marveled, watching how his forearms tensed with strength, his sinews and tendons pulled taut. She bit back her grin to think he did it on purpose, to show off. Well, that was all right, she supposed. They were betrothed—and he had very fine forearms.
When the load neared a balcony, he secured the rope and led her up, up, up to where the shingles waited. She watched as he leapt onto the sloped side of a nearby gable, clambering gracefully up onto the roof.
Those long, pointed ears cast a shadow on her as he leaned over the side to grin at her.
“You should be safe there, and I can hear you.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t prefer the birds for company?” she teased, watching a handful of pigeons gather on a cylindricalceramic chimney.
