Page 64 of Love & Letter Charms
Oh, please,Thimble scoffed.It’s the height of summer! The rain is warm, and it would be THOROUGHLY refreshing. Besides, no one’s awake at this hour except the night footmen, and they’re all playing cards in the servants’ hall.
“I appreciate your companions’ spirited debate,” the prince commented, looking amused. “Might I add that the rain is indeed quite warm this evening? Perfect for a first attempt at purposeful drenching.”
Aurelise worried her lower lip, a habit her mother would have scolded her for. The sensible part of her—which was to say, most of her—insisted this was absolute madness. But there was another part, a tiny rebellious whisper that sounded suspiciously like R’s letters, suggesting that perhaps, just perhaps, a small adventure wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“I would need to … to cover my nightgown,” she said, hardly believing she was even considering this.
“Of course,” he agreed readily. “Though I wouldn’t bother with slippers. They’ll only become waterlogged. Besides,” his smile turned almost boyish, “don’t you want to feel the grass between your toes?”
She stared at him for a long moment, then made a decision that would have horrified her even a fortnight ago. “Wait here.”
She closed the door—not quite in his face, but nearly—and rushed to the end of the bed where her wrapper lay. Still scandalously insubstantial, but it would at least provide some coverage. And besides, he had already witnessed her flailing about in a flowerbed in her nightclothes; the threshold of dignity had surely been crossed long ago.
As she pulled the wrapper on with trembling fingers, she caught sight of herself in her dressing table mirror. Her eyes were bright with something that might have been fear or excitement or very possibly both.
“This is madness,” she muttered.
This is adventure!Thimble corrected, already dancing in anticipation.
When she opened the door again, Prince Ryden was still there, looking as though he had every right to be lounging outside a lady’s bedchamber at nearly midnight. He offered her his arm with exaggerated formality.
“Your evening constitutional awaits, my lady.”
Against every principle of proper behavior she’d been taught, Aurelise placed her hand—her bare, gloveless hand!—upon his arm and allowed him to lead her into the corridor.
Solstice Hall lay hushed and dreamlike, soft shadows spilling across marble and gilt. Aurelise, however, noticed precisely nothing of her surroundings. Every scrap of her awareness was consumed by the prince beside her, the warmth of his sleeve beneath her palm, the cool floor beneath her bare feet.
This was complete, unrepentant madness. At any moment, someone would discover them. Her reputation would be not merely tarnished but obliterated. She would have to return to Rowanwood House in unspeakable disgrace.
Her magic responded to her nerves, thin threads of melody trembling into existence around them, high, uncertain notes like harp strings brushed by invisible hands.
A soft laugh came from beside her. “There is no need to panic, Lady Aurelise. I promise, you shall not be discovered, and you shall not melt from the rain.”
Thimble darted ahead of them, her iridescent wings catching what little light remained, while Spark followed with obviousreluctance, muttering under his breath about the follies of youth and the inevitability of lung fever.
They passed through the Blue Parlour, its elegant furniture transformed into mysterious shapes in the darkness, then through a smaller sitting room Aurelise had never entered before. Finally, Prince Ryden stopped before a set of glass doors that led to the garden.
He pushed open the doors, and immediately the sound of rain filled the space. Not a violent downpour but a steady, gentle shower that released the green scent of growing things into the night air.
Without hesitation, the prince stepped outside.
Within moments, his white shirt was plastered to his skin, his hair dripping water down his face. He turned back to Aurelise with a grin that was pure mischief, spreading his arms wide as he took a few steps backward, further into the rainy night.
“Come now, Lady Aurelise! What are you waiting for?”
She hung back in the doorway, her fingers clutching the frame. “I’ll get wet!”
“Yes, that’s rather the entire purpose of the exercise.”
“But then I’ll be thoroughly soaked!”
“Indeed you will. And what then? Will the world cease spinning? Will society crumble? Or will you perhaps discover that being wet is merely … being wet?”
She shook her head, though she was fighting a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“I prefer ‘encouraging.’ Come now. One step. That’s all. One step into the rain.”
I’m absolutely not going out there, Spark announced, settling himself primly in the doorway.This is undignified behavior for anyone, but particularly for a lady of quality.
