She was quiet for a moment, her eyes meeting his with the steady attention she gave to everything.
“I feel,” she said slowly, “That it is a sensible arrangement. The children benefit from your consistent presence. The estate requires attention that cannot be effectively provided from London. Your parliamentary duties, as Anna noted, can be managed through correspondence for most matters.” She paused. “From a practical standpoint, permanent residence in Cornwall is the logical choice.”
“And from an impractical standpoint?”
Something glimmered in her expression, some emotion breaking through the careful composure before being firmly suppressed.
“From an impractical standpoint, I find the arrangement… amenable.”
Rhys understood, with the particular clarity that came from months of learning to read her, exactly what that word meant. Amenable was Mel at her most emotionally demonstrative. Amenable was Mel admitting that she wanted this, that she was glad, that the future they were building together had just become more solid and more real.
Amenable was Mel saying she held him in her deepest esteem without actually saying the words.
“Amenable,” he repeated, unable to keep the smile from his face.
“High praise indeed.”
“I confess, I am quite at a loss to follow your meaning.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so that only she could hear.
“You’re pleased. You’re more than pleased. You’re as pleased as I’ve ever seen you about anything, and you’re trying very hard not to show it.”
“I am not trying to show or not show anything. I am simply…”
“Amenable. Yes. I heard.” His smile widened.
“I’ll take amenable. From you, amenable is practically a declaration.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, a rare crack in her composure that delighted him more than any effusive response could have.
“You are impossible,” she said.
“So I’ve been told. Frequently. By many people.” He reached out and took her hand, pulling her gently to her feet.
“But I notice you haven’t objected to the arrangement.”
“Objecting would be impractical. The decision has clearly already been made.”
“It has. But I would have consulted you before making it if I thought you would have given me a straight answer about your preferences.”
“My preferences are irrelevant to your residential decisions.”
“Your preferences are the only thing that matters to my residential decisions.” He tugged her closer, close enough that he could see the slight quickening of her pulse in her throat. “I’m staying because this is where I want to be. Because these children are where I want to be. Because you are where I want to be.”
The flush in her cheeks deepened. Behind them, he could hear Thistle making sounds of theatrical disgust.
“They’re being romantic again. It’s very disturbing.”
“It’s not disturbing,” Anna countered. “It’s statistically inevitable. Romantic attachment frequently leads to public displays of affection. The literature is quite clear on this point.”
“What literature?”
“Various literature. Miss Grace assigned me additional reading on human behavioral patterns.”
“I assigned you a history of the French Revolution,” Mel said, her voice carrying the familiar note of long-suffering patience.
“I don’t believe romantic behavioral patterns were included.”
