She was aware of the flush of her skin, the trembling heat of his hands under her dressing gown. Her heart thumping as much as Drystan’s. She was also aware again of the creaks of the kitchen floorboards, the smell of dried mud and herbs.
Of the fact, if he hadn’t stopped them, their intentions of anus,would be jeopardized. Still, she hated it. That was their first kiss. She loved that he wasn’t gentle, polite, or even tender. It had simply been them, with so many wants too long denied.
“I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” he said on a low laugh, half groan.
“But not as long as I.” She hovered her finger over one of his eyes until he blinked hard. When he didn’t do what she wanted, she placed a fingertip on the lid until he closed his eye and opened it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making you wink.”
He chuckled. “When I can love you properly, I’ll make up for those three years you think you have on me until you can’t remember a time I hadn’t wanted you.”
It was her turn to shiver in his arms.
Drawing away, he said, “There are no certainties. I can only talk to your father and hope this time he listens.”
“Drystan, he could take the coin and marry me off anyway.”
“He cares for you.”
“You say that, but I never see it. My entire life, he tells me what is wrong, what I need to improve. You think to tell him of my merit? He doesn’t know of any.”
“I intend to remind him what he already knows—that you’re worth everything he has—his truest treasure” he said.
Remind her father of her worth. What was she to do whilst Drystan said all this? Simply stand by his side? Something seemed wrong with what Drystan proposed. But what did she know of cooperation and negotiation? Her entire life had been dedicated to mischief. Why she did it, she didn’t know; she only knew the more her father forced her on a path that wasn’t her own, the more she rebelled against it.
“If he denies the truth, I’ll simply grab that chest, fling you over my shoulder, and run away,” she said.
A smile curved his lips, but there was something in his expression, something that wasn’t full of heat or light, something wistful. She felt that bit of concern in her own heart.
What hope for them now? She couldn’t move Drystan to take the chest away on his own, any more than he could persuade her to take the coin for herself.
This felt like all the times they partnered in mischief, with none of the fun and only the worry. Still, if he wanted to try it, so would she. Whatever consequences there would be tomorrow morning, they’d share the responsibility of it together.
She eyed the muddy chest, the splattered table, the distinct footprint smears and hoped what Drystan said was true. “As much as I made a mess of puddings, I think you and this mud have topped them all. Cook will be very cross with you in the morning. I almost wish I could be here.”
He chuckled. “What makes you think I’ll tell him anything? You’ve pulled too many jests on him. He’ll already think it’s you.”
It was true. She covered her mouth and looked around. “Oh, my, this only makes me want to grab some more mud and write right here on this table.”
“What will you write?”
There were loads of words she wanted to write, but those would be between Drystan and herself.
“You’ll see.”
