Collins waited in the chapel, sitting on a pew. When we entered, he turned and leapt to his feet. “Mr. Churchill! So glad to see you! What brings you here today?”
“Mary, my girlfriend, is showing me around. She only says the most wonderful things about her internship here.”
Collins’s eyes widened, and I tucked a little closer to Frank’s side. Here it came, the lecture about bringing men into my workspace.
“Well, that is splendid! And can I say how delightful it is to see the nephew of the most skilled perfume creator in the glorious state of Maine? I, in fact, keep a bottle of Men’s Spice on my desk and on occasion spray it into the air so that I may smell its wondrous scent. Yes, show him around,” Collins said. “Patrons such as the Churchills are always welcome in this holy place.”
Patrons.And then I understood. The Churchills, like Lady Catherine, gave a good amount of money to the church. Not to mention Frank was a high fae.
“You were unaware of their relationship, Pastor?” Brexton said, glancing between me and Frank.
“It’s a recent development,” I muttered under my breath.
“It must be.” Brexton gaze stopped on me, flashing in the lowlight. For a moment, it felt as if he possessed the power to see right through me.
“Well, we should get going. There’s much to observe,” I said with a high-pitched laugh. Hex, why was I laughing? Nobody had said anything funny. I pulled Frank to the rear of the church, where we headed down to the stacks.
When we reached the bottom of the steps, I dropped his hand. “You can’t say things like that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “It was only the way it appeared… you and me meeting in the bushes next to the church…”
I adjusted my glasses, not looking at him. “I’m sure you’ve encountered many girls there.”
“Everyone met there when we were younger.”
“Not me.”
He fell silent. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I forced myself to take a calming breath. “You can’t make up lies about you and me. They will get out and people… they won’t believe it.” I stared at my hands. “And they’d be right. It’s not even true.”
“I’d like it to be true,” he said so quietly that I almost misheard it.
I looked up at him. I tended to miss things when it came to social interactions, but the way he was looking at me made me feel as if I might actually be worth his time. “What are you saying?”
“I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”
“Why would you ask me that?”
His brows drew together. “You’re a horrible piano player.”
I blinked. “What?”
“But you knew that before sitting down at that piano. Didn’t you?”
I shifted. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”
“You played for me. To distract Lydia from making her announcement. Plus, you remembered the name of my girlfriend in high school.”
My cheeks heated. “Everyone was aware of who you were dating.”
He stepped closer and my heart began to pound. “You act flustered whenever I touch you.” The side of his knuckle grazed across my cheek. “I think, Mary Bennet, that you like me.”
A tingle spread through my body, and I couldn’t avert my gaze from his dark eyes that seemed to burn in the basement’s lighting.
“And that’s very fortunate,” he said gently. “Because I like you.”
I had no choice but to lean into his touch, to lean into him. Again he stroked my cheek, watching me with his deep, consuming gaze.
