Page 146 of Colour My World
“That day may require fortitude.”
She laughed before she could stop herself. “You say such things with the greatest severity.”
“I have always relied upon severity. It conceals everything else.”
“And what is concealed today?”
He glanced upward. “Admiration. Hesitation.” He turned back to her. “And a rather dismal inability to flirt.”
“What a shame. I had hoped for a compliment.”
“You may still have one, but it will most likely not come from me.”
“Oh? Are you always so ungenerous?”
“Only with things too easily spent. Compliments are currency for some. I find they depreciate quickly.”
“And if I insisted?”
He glanced sideways at her. “I might say your silence is never empty.”
They walked on in quiet for some time. Elizabeth adjusted to the measure of his stride, as he did hers.
“You disliked me,” he said quietly. “At the start.”
“I did,” she admitted. “And then I held it against you for far too long.”
“And now?”
She looked up at him. “You remain a puzzle.”
“An improving one?”
“Let us say I enjoy the effort.” She giggled.
“You are very good at effort.”
“And you are very good at... stillness.”
He turned to her. “That is a peculiar trait to praise.”
“I did not say it was always welcome.”
He smiled. Roses bloomed about him.
They walked to the edge of the orchard, where the wall met a narrow gate. The breeze lifted the collar of her cloak, and he reached—hesitated—and let it fall again.
“I never expected to be here,” she said.
“Nor I.”
“And yet here you are. Again.”
“As often as I am tolerated.”
Elizabeth stopped and looked up at him. Her heart swelled. “You are more than tolerated.”
“That is more than I had hoped to hear.”
