“Oh,” he mumbled.
“Oh,” I repeated while nodding in an exaggerated way.
Kit shot me a bewildered look, but I raised a finger to him as a sign to wait, then propped my elbows on the tabletop and rested my chin in my palms, watching Warren like a child might watch a festival show.
Warren cleared his throat three times in a row while the red burned ever brighter on his skin. He fished into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. Sayla had been rapt for several seconds already, but her focus narrowed to the bag and her next breath stuttered.
Watching her, I vividly recalled being in a similar position, gliding through the snow alongside Kit, welling with tears while he tied the cord around my wrist.
I sat up and grabbed his knee again to give it a squeeze.
“Sayla,” Warren began, his voice so thick it seemed he might start bawling before he managed to get the words out. “Mydearest. I’m so glad to have found you. Even gladder to have loved you. And to have you love me.”
The sentences were heartfelt but clumsy, and his movements were equally graceless as he opened the bag and upended it into his palm. A flash of silver coiled into the shape of a chain, and my heart leaped for my sister.
Kit figured it out about then and clasped his hand atop mine. If he hadn’t been a wet, dirty mess, I might have crawled into his lap because I wanted little more than to hold him. Kiss him. Share this joy and every other with him, forever.
Warren cleared his throat again.
“I’d like it…” He swallowed. So red yet determined to get it out. “I’d be so grateful… if you would…”
“Warren, you silly man!” Sayla blurted, startling her suitor to silence. She was beaming, though, and tears spilled down her scarred cheeks as she opened her arms to him. “You act as though you think I’d say no!”
She sprang forward, tackling Warren so hard she almost took them both to the ground.
Warren managed to keep his seat while taking my sister on board, and I cupped my fingers to my mouth to stifle a delighted squeal.
“So, you’ll… you’ll marry me?” Warren asked breathlessly.
“Of course!” Sayla replied with a vigorous nod.
Warren still held the chain. He had no way to put it on Sayla’s wrist with her clinging to him, nearly strangling the poor fellow from the looks of it. But he was blissful and, when he glanced over at me and mouthed “Thank you,” I couldn’t have been more pleased.
Past them, Mother remained in her seat, as teary as Sayla and wearing a smile that soothed my very soul.
I swiveled toward Kit, not realizing my own cheeks were damp until the movement caused air to whoosh over them. Hewas still visibly worn down, but he looked as happy as I knew he would be. And I had no doubt he was remembering our own engagement by the way his fingers crept up my hand beneath the table and tugged on the leather cord around my wrist.
Their joy was ours, too, because we were family. All of us. Mother, and Sayla, and Warren, and me. AndKit.
And Merrick, who gestured toward where Warren and Sayla were tangled in a fierce embrace.
“This is whatyoushould be doing, Penwell,” he grumbled.
A short breath sputtered out of me. “What, proposing to Kit?” I yanked my hand free of Kit’s grasp and waved it proudly in the air. “He beat me to it. Did it properly and everything.”
My half-brother’s eyes—green like my own—narrowed. “There’s nothing proper about this.” The tip of his chin indicated Kit and me. “What would beproperis taking responsibility for what you’ve been given, finding a woman who can tolerate you, and letting her bear you a few sons.”
It was a familiar aspersion, but it burned me through and through. I was more angry than hurt. Outraged that my family’s scorn might now extend to Kit. That him choosing me made him as wrong as I always felt I was. That my mother’s reservations were about more than us having only known each other half a year. That she was disappointed in me.
I was too scared to look at her, to see the mirth stripped from her face at the reminder of my shortcomings, but her voice rang out clearly.
“Merrick, those opinions may be yours, but they are not welcome in my house.”
Of course, I looked at her then. How could I not? I stared with my jaw hanging slack and tears creating fresh tracks down my face.
“This is a joyous moment,” Mother continued, “and a union we should celebrate. Just as we should celebrate Penny and Kit. Everyone deserves someone who makes them happy.”
Yes, they did.
