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But Lorcan’s words didn’t keep Toby from constantly glancing at the clock and the door. She was trying to concentrate on the wedding plans she’d present to Victoria, but she couldn’t keep her mind on them. “I just hope she’ll like these,” she mumbled.
“Daire likes anything historical,” Lorcan said.
“I didn’t mean—” Toby began, but stopped herself. “Does he? I know so little about you two personally. Either of you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?”
“Daire lives in the barracks with his students, but he sometimes returns to his parents’ home for the …” She couldn’t seem to remember the word.
“Weekend?”
“Yes,” Lorcan said. “If there are women, he is discreet, although he does make all women feel at ease.”
There was something about her tone that intrigued Toby. “What else does Daire like besides history?”
For fifteen minutes, Lorcan talked nonstop. In the entire time she’d been on Nantucket she hadn’t spoken so many words. She didn’t seem to notice that a quarter of them were Lanconian. She just kept on going. She told Toby what Daire liked to watch on TV—American and English shows such as Spartacus and Game of Thrones—what he read—biographies—what movies he liked—anything with an intricate plot that used what, according to Lorcan, was his prodigious brain. She told of the foods he liked and disliked. It seemed that his favorite vegetable was asparagus.
Toby wanted to ask, “And how long have you been in love with him?” but she didn’t. She looked down at her notebook to hide her smile. How very interesting, she thought.
At about ten she gave up waiting for the men to return and went to bed. But she didn’t sleep well. Her worry made her restless. If something bad happened, how would anyone know to call her? But then, maybe someone from the wedding had seen Graydon and would realize that he was a Kingsley. But what if no one recognized him?
She flopped about on the bed, dozing off now and then but always just barely. When she heard Graydon and Daire on the stairs, bumping into furniture and cursing in Lanconian, she let out her breath in relief.
She lay there listening to their attempts to be quiet, then finally, Daire went downstairs and there was silence. Toby told herself she should go back to sleep but she wanted to be sure Graydon was all right.
She had on her pink pajamas and thought of putting on a robe, but she didn’t. Barefoot, she went to Graydon’s bedroom. The door was open and she tiptoed in. He was lying facedown on the bed, the covers thrown back, with the tail of a blanket over the lower half of him. From the waist up he was nude, with his right arm hanging off the bed, his fingertips touching the floor.
Smiling, she reached across him to get the other half of the blanket to cover him. It was too cool to be so bare.
When his hand reached out and grabbed her thigh, she gasped in surprise. In a lightning fast movement, he pulled her off her feet so she landed on top of him, then he deftly rolled her over so she was stretched out beside him.
“Now you are mine,” he said and began to kiss her neck.
“You smell like a brewery.” She was pushing at him.
“Daire got me drunk.”
“Held you down, did he? Poured gallons of beer into your mouth?”
“He did,” Graydon said. “Think I should have him beheaded? What do you have on?”
“Pajamas, and stop unbuttoning them.” She pushed at his shoulders to look at him. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. “I don’t want to be deflowered by a drunken prince.”
“Good,” he said and collapsed with his face on her shoulder. “We’ll just be still and in the morning we’ll work on the flowers.”
Toby laughed. She knew she should let him sleep, but in his inebriated state he just might answer a few questions. “Do you love Danna?”
“Lanconia owes her father for businesses and jobs and scholarships and … everything,” Graydon murmured sleepily. He was on his stomach and had his arm around Toby so securely she wasn’t sure she could move if she wanted to.
“And you’re the prize? Like in a fairy tale? If a man does some great deed the king rewards him with the hand of the prince in marriage to his daughter?”
“Exactly like that.”
His breath was warm on her cheek. “How does the word ‘barbaric’ sound to you?”
“Perfect,” he said, “but I didn’t mind until I came to Nantucket. Danna is beautiful.”
“Oh?” Toby said. “Does she have the blonde hair that you seem to like so much? Can’t keep your hands out of it, can you?”
Graydon went back to kissing her neck. “Natural blonde. I told my grandfather that.”
