Page 206 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“Do you remember the solstice, when we were children?” he asked.

A small smile touched her mouth. “Which one?”

“The disastrous one.”

“You will have to be more specific.”

“The one where you informed me that I had ruined everything.”

“I believe there have been several occasions when I informed you of that.”

William smiled carefully, mindful of his ribs this time. “The summer solstice. We were young, playing outside among the trees. You told me it was supposed to be the longest, brightest day of the year.”

“And you mocked me.”

“Repeatedly, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

“I was charming.”

“You were unbearable.”

Rosalind laughed softly, and William watched her for a moment. Somewhere between the familiar teasing and the warmth of her hand in his, the words he had been trying to find no longer seemed difficult at all.

“I thought it was nonsense,” he said.

“What was?”

“The solstice. All that talk about light and beginnings and whatever other magic you claimed to be performing.”

“I performed excellent magic.”

“So I have been told.” He lifted their joined hands slightly. “But I think I understand it now.”

The teasing faded from her expression.

“My entire life feels different than it did a month ago. I do not know what will happen to Algernon or what becomes of the title. I do not know how much my mother knew, or what I am supposed to do with everything I have learned.”

Rosalind squeezed his hand, and William drew a slow breath.

“But I know what I want.”

She became very still.

“You.”

Her eyes filled immediately, but now that he had begun, William found he had far more to say.

“I want more gardens and ridiculous arguments. I want to hear every opinion you have, whether I ask for it or not. I want to lose at battledore because you become irrationally competitive whenever Lady Sophronia looks in my direction.”

Rosalind’s mouth fell open.

William could not help smiling. “I knew it.”

“You most certainly did not.”

“I suspected.”