“Well go ahead—knot it.”
“My lord, I’d best get Mr. Reynolds for that, he’s the duke’s valet. I’ve never tied a knot on a gentleman—I’m not sure how you want it done.”
“There is no time, just do your best.”
A minute passed by and Winsome supposed Thomas was working on the lord’s knot.
“It’s awful, but it will have to do. My coat.”
“Here it is.”
Then, he shouted, “I am dressed.”
Winsome ran out to the corridor just in time to throw herself in Manderbey’s arms. He swept her up and whispered into her hair, “There you are.”
She pulled her head away and gazed up at him. “Here I am,” she said.
He kissed her gently, and she ignored Thomas’s muttered, “Oh my God,” as he hurried past them. Manderbey pushed her up against the wall and kissed her neck, slowly moving upwards. He tenderly kissed her nose and she recalled he admired her freckles. Then he moved back down and settled on her lips.
Kissing her gently, his forefinger traced the outline of her cheek. “Let us be married in all haste,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll talk to your father, get a special license, and put the screws on St. George’s to get an early date.”
Winsome was more than gratified by his eagerness to get to a church.
He suddenly pulled back. “That is, if you wish to proceed speedily.”
Winsome laughed. “I cannot wait to get a look at whatever horrified Valor.”
This boldness took him entirely by surprise. “My lady.”
“Well?” she said, laughing.
“Yes, well,” he said, bending over to kiss her once more. He ran his fingers through her hair. “I adore your hair, I adore your nose and the freckles sprinkled across it, I adore your eyes and your lips. Really, there is nothing I do not adore.”
Winsome giggled into his neck. “Wait until I make a habit of reading terrible novels to you, then we’ll see.”
“If it is very terrible, and I hope it will be, I will throw the book over my shoulder and carry you upstairs.”
“Then I will seek out the most awful available. They will be positively ghastly and you will have no choice but to carry me upstairs.”
“I think you will like my house in Torquay. It is not large—”
“But it has a view of the sea and a cozy little tavern in the town.”
“Just so.”
“Might we not go there for a wedding trip?” Winsome asked. “We might say we are going somewhere else and slip off there.”
“You do not wish to go on some grand tour of some point of interest, swanning around in new dresses and everybody wondering who you are?”
“Not ever. I’d much rather unpack and settle in. It sounds very romantic there.”
“If it is not, I will make it so.”
Manderbey kissed her again and Winsome supposed she would not mind spending the entire day in that attitude. They might have done it too, if Meggy had not dropped a bucket full of ash on the corridor’s carpet from the shock of it when she came upon them.
