Page 50 of Love & Letter Charms
“Forgive me,” he said, finally extending the letter toward her. “I couldn’t help but notice some of the contents.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward as she snatched the paper from his hand. “I must say, you are perhaps the last person I might have guessed to be in possession of something so … spirited.”
Her mortification deepened to catastrophic levels. A muffled squeak of woodwinds fluttered briefly around them before she clamped down on the wayward magic with desperate force. “I—well—it isn’t what it looks like.”
A flicker of confusion passed over his face, his gaze shifting briefly past her in search of the sound’s origin, before returning to her, his smile resettling with practiced ease. “Isn’t it?”
“Of course not,” she said, lifting her chin slightly and meeting his gaze despite the heat in her cheeks. “Such activities would be most unbecoming of a lady. I have no interest in dares.”
He lifted a brow, expression openly skeptical. “No interest? Then I must be hallucinating. For it appears to me that you are presently standing atop the summer palace, in the middle of the night, dressed for bed, and attempting—what was it?—ah, yes. To stargaze from a roof.”
Her cheeks burned hotter. “You saw that particular item?”
His lips curved fully into that devastating smile. “I must confess I saw the entire list.”
If it were possible to perish from mortification, Aurelise would have expired on the spot. Her hands trembled as she folded the letter, her gaze darting about in search of Thimble and Spark. Her coconspirators, it seemed, had vanished most conveniently. How fortunate for them not to be the ones found in so undignified a position.
“I’m quite intrigued by the third item on the list,” he continued. “Flirt with someone? How delightfully scandalous, Lady Aurelise.”
“That certainly will not be happening,” she said firmly, though her voice came out rather breathier than intended.
“Why ever not?” he asked, his tone all innocent mischief. “You could practice with me. I’m exceptionally good at it.”
She could only stare, momentarily robbed of speech. Surely he had not just said that aloud.
He tilted his head, the glimmer of mischief never dimming, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts charm and suggestion. “I could assist you with item number twelve as well.”
That, at least, shocked words from her. “I certainly won’t—there will be no—I am a lady of good breeding!” The words came out in an embarrassing splutter, accompanied by the faint but decidedly erratic twang of startled harp strings. “I will most certainly not bekissinganyone!”
“Hmm. Pity.” If he’d heard the music, he chose to ignore it this time. He looked thoughtful now instead, though the wicked gleam remained in his eyes. “I’m curious who gave you this list. Clearly someone who believes you might, under the right circumstances, be willing to kiss someone.” He paused, brows lifting slightly, his smile deepening into deliberate speculation. “Or perhaps someone who hopes to be therecipientof this kiss?”
She clutched the letter tighter. “I believe I should return to my chambers, Your Highness. If someone were to discover?—”
“Oh, no, please stay.” The teasing edge vanished from his tone, replaced by something quieter, earnest. His expression softened, all trace of mischief gone. “Forgive me, Lady Aurelise. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.” He inclined his head slightly, the picture of contrition. “Please do not let my impertinence drive you away. The stars are particularly beautifultonight, and I would be honored if you would remain a little longer to admire them.”
She blinked. “With … with you?”
“Yes, with me.” He gestured to the stone bench, his smile almost gentle, stripped of its earlier trace of mischief.
“But that would be most improper! We are alone, without a chaperone. If someone were to discover us?—”
“We are not alone,” he pointed out. “Your delightful companions are here.”
Aurelise turned to follow his gaze, and there, at the base of the stone fountain, sat Thimble and Spark, both of them apparently having borne silent witness to the entire exchange.
Though the High Lady had instructed her and the other ladies to treat their companions with the same respect they would give any other member of their household staff, Aurelise doubted the creatures truly fulfilled the traditional role of chaperones tasked with preserving decorum between young people. Still, she didn’t wish to offend them.
“Does that … count?” she asked tentatively.
Of course it does!Thimble’s enthusiastic voice rang in her mind.
Most certainly not, Spark countered simultaneously.
Prince Ryden laughed, a warm, genuine sound. “I agree with Thimble.”
Aurelise started. “You heard them?”
“They can choose who to direct their inner voices toward. Either of us individually, or both.” He gestured toward the bench again. “Come. I give you my word, no one will find us here. And I assure you that in spite of my earlier enthusiasm for dares of a scandalous nature, I have not the slightest intention of compromising your virtue. You are safe with me, Lady Aurelise.”
She tilted her head slightly, studying him with clear suspicion that softened—just barely—into reluctant amusement.Then, against her better judgment, she found herself following him to the bench. She sat at the farthest possible edge, ensuring a proper amount of space between them, and pulled her shawl more tightly around herself. Despite the mild evening air, the stone was cold through the thin fabric of her nightgown, and she shivered slightly.
