“Dear Jameson takes care of my every need. Why, I only need to think of a thing andpoof—there it appears. We are going to be joining his regiment now that our honeymoon is at an end, but oh my, I wish it wasn’t over. The last two weeks have been magical, haven’t they? I’ve been in positive raptures for every moment.”
Dear Jameson picked up her hand and pressed a fervent kiss to the palm. “I’m your devoted servant in all things, madam.”
It didn’t take long before Tuck and Lizzy had the entire historyof the most happy Darlings, from meeting at a ball to a few of the most magical walks in the history of human creation to a letter dear Jameson penned that was the paragon against which all future love letters of the world would be judged and found wanting.
“I do make some pretty verses,” dear Jameson offered. “My wife says I have quite a gift for rhyme.”
“Wife!” Mrs.Jameson Horatio Darling squealed the word. “Is there anything so wonderful as being a wife? I should think not, am I correct, Mrs. erhm... Mrs....” She trailed off, not at all seeming to mind that she’d never requested a similar introduction. Turning to Tuck, she dipped her head. “I’m so sorry, sir, when I’m around my dear Jameson, I’m afraid I’m in such raptures that I forget to see other men at all. Why, recently I was walking down the sidewalk and I bumped directly into one, mistaking him for a cart.”
“Pardon, I am failing to see how you could walk into a cart in the absence of seeing a man,” Lizzy said tersely.
“My eyes are full of stars and moons for the one I love, Mrs.... I’m terribly sorry, I simply must get your name, sir.”
“My name is Lizzy Wooddash, and this is Mr.Tucker Taylor.”
“Ah, an unusual name, sir. And I thought the two of you were also in such a blessed conjugal union as me and my dear Jameson.”
“We are to be married,” Tuck offered, remembering the reminders that Jane and Georgie had issued in the shed. He didn’t want them thinking unwell of Lizzy for his company.
“Ah.” Mrs.Jameson Horatio Darling glanced between them with a knowing look. “To Gretna Green, is it?”
When neither of them confirmed nor denied, she threw herself against her husband. “Dear Jameson, they are eloping! Isn’tthat marvelous? Of course, we had the banns read and did it in a church and everything quite by the book, but your choice is a choice indeed.”
“To be sure.” Lizzy’s voice was strained to the point where another gush from the beaming bride might send her hurtling out onto the moors.
Tuck took her hand in his; it was cool but soft. He hadn’t done this before—sat and held her hand. “We can only hope to be a fraction as happy as you.”
“And so you shall.” Mrs.Jameson Horatio Darling perked back up at the thought. “Because while you can never hope to be as incandescently blissful as myself, given that I am the one fortune has favored with such a stallion, even having a scrap of this happiness should quite suffice.”
Lizzy’s eyes and mouth both opened wider and Tuck gave her hand two warning squeezes.
“Yes, thank you for the warm wishes. We are feeling very fortunate ourselves, are we not?”
“If I rapture any harder, I shall be face-to-face with angels,” Lizzy deadpanned.
The coach went silent for a moment before Mrs.Jameson Horatio Darling pealed with laughter.
“Dear Jameson, what rhymes withangels? I demand a pretty little poem at once.”
“When I am away from my angel... I find the world in despair and my poor heart grows painful.”
The girl squealed and clapped her hands while kicking her feet up in what appeared to be a full-bodied response to his literary prowess. “See! See! He can just do such things with no practice or advance notice. My own personal Shakespeare. My clever little husband.”
“Pretty words flow easily when there is a muse as lovely as you, my rose.”
“Sweetheart, look, a bird.” Tuck pointed out the window and tugged her close, whispering in her ear, “You are not allowed to kill them or throw yourself from a moving coach.”
She made a noise in protest. “I promise neither.”
“Just keep looking at the birds.”
A few were flying by, nothing special or out of the ordinary, but having Lizzy pressed up close made it more interesting.
“The moors have a certain charm, don’t they?” she murmured.
“Is that what these are?” The landscape was bleak, devoid of trees or cheer.
“This feels more romantic to me than...” She inclined her head toward the couple busy cooing. “Out there, I can imagine feelings get very stark, almost painful. There are no distractions to your thoughts, so it’s you and your ugly heart against the horizon.”
