Anna, who had been watching with the analytical attention she gave to everything, leaned forward slightly.
“Say yes, Miss Grace,” she said, her voice carrying its familiar precision.
“He’ll be insufferable if you don’t.”
“Anna…”
“I’m simply stating the observable truth. Papa has been carrying that ring box for three days. I noticed the outline in his coat pocket on Tuesday. If you refuse him, he will mope, and moping interferes with household efficiency.”
Viola reached out and touched Mel’s hand, her quiet voice barely above a whisper.
“Please say yes.”
The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything Viola rarely expressed. Please say yes. Please stay. Please become permanent in the way that nothing else in her life had ever been permanent.
Thistle, not to be outdone, held up Brutus so that the toad was facing Mel directly.
“Brutus also wants you to say yes,” she announced. “He told me this morning. He said that if you wed Papa, you’ll officially be part of the family, and then you can never leave because leaving family is against the rules.”
“Brutus did not say that,” Anna observed. “Toads cannot speak.”
“Brutus speaks to me. You just don’t understand his language because you haven’t studied it properly.”
“There is no toad language. That’s not scientifically…”
“Girls.” Mel’s voice cut through the brewing argument with practiced efficiency. She was looking down at Rhys, still kneeling on the schoolroom floor, still holding the ring, still waiting for an answer that suddenly seemed less certain than it had a moment ago.
“You’re all very persuasive,” she said slowly.
“Particularly Brutus.”
“Is that a yes?” Thistle demanded.
“It’s an acknowledgment of persuasion. The answer requires more consideration.”
Rhys felt his heart stutter. More consideration. After everything they had been through, after the declarations and the promises and the plans already in motion, she needed more consideration?
But then he looked at her face, really looked, and he saw what was happening beneath the composed exterior. She was not reconsidering. She was not uncertain. She was simply being Mel, taking a moment that could have been purely emotional and grounding it in the practical reality that she valued above all else.
“What consideration do you require?” he asked.
“I require acknowledgment that this proposal, while romantic in intent, is occurring during an educational session that is not yet complete.” Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smile that she was clearly trying to suppress.
“The children have not yet learned the capitals of Spain and Portugal, and their geographical education should not be sacrificed for personal matters.”
“You want me to wait until after the lesson?”
“I want you to understand that my answer comes with conditions.”
“Name them.”
“First, we will complete the geography lesson. The Iberian Peninsula is not optional.” She paused, her expression softening almost imperceptibly.
“Second, you will rise from the floor, because kneeling on stone cannot be comfortable, and I refuse to accept a proposal from a man who is in physical distress.”
“I am not in physical distress.”
“You will be if you remain there much longer. Your knee is at an angle that suggests imminent discomfort.”
