Page 46 of Snowbound with the Scoundrel
“No.”She crossed the room and smiled up at him, actually smiled!His heart skipped a beat or three.“I was worried, given that Lady Emily is partial to bright colors that aren’t particularly conducive to skulking in the shadows.But I’m fairly certain I was not seen.”
“Good.That’s grand.”Rupert gestured to the sofa.“So, turning to the list of suspects—”
“Wait.”She grabbed his hand.Neither of them had gloves on, and he couldn’t help but notice how buttery-soft her skin was.“I’m sorry, I know we need to discuss the investigation.But something occurred to me this afternoon.”
“Oh?”Nothing was occurring to Rupert at the moment, other than how much he wanted to slide his hand up her wrist and keep going.
She released his hand, more’s the pity.She also bit her lip the way she was wont to do when she was really concentrating on something, and it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
“In the orangery, when you told me what you overheard me say to Becky, I’m fairly certain those were my exact words.”
They probably were.That was how Rupert’s brain worked, after all.“That’s right.You asked me to tell you as exactly as I remembered it.So, I did.”
She stared at him for a beat.“And you remembered my exact words, even after two years.”
Rupert saw what she was getting at.“Oh, that.So, you remember the bit about how I can’t read very well?”
She was regarding him with an affectionate sort of smile.“Mm-hmm.”
“And I can’t write so well, either?”
“Yes?”
“Well, you see, old Rupert’s a bit dicked in the nob.As cracked as an eggshell.As jingle-brained as Lord Helmsley’s sleigh.As—”
“Rupert!”She laughed.“What are you trying to tell me?”
“Seeing as I can scarcely read and can’t write much of anything down, I suppose the old noodle had to compensate somehow.There was nothing for it—I just had to start remembering everything people said.”
She peered up at him.“You can truly remembereverythingpeople say?”
“Just about.I mean, if there’s three or four people talking at once, things get a bit skimble-skamble.”
She bit her lip again.“Could I see?”
“Sure.I mean, if you like.”
She thought a moment.“Have you ever seen Shakespeare’sTwelfth Night?”
He shook his head.“Nope.Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“I happened to act out a scene from it at a house party a few months back.I still have parts of it memorized.”
She proceeded to recite a little speech from the play.Once she was done, she nodded.“Go on.”
He said it back to her:
“She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud,
Feed on her damask cheek.She pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.Was not this love indeed?”
