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“Touched by magic,” she replied, turning back to look at him.
A man could get lost in those eyes, Kenver realized. They didn’t only sparkle. They had depths and…layers—intelligence, kindness, determination, a sense of honor he recognized. Her lips parted as if to speak. But she didn’t. Kenver’s head bent, and then he was kissing her.
He shouldn’t be. This was presuming. He ought to draw away at once. He started to, but she put an arm around his neck and pulled him back. An awkward embrace shifted into a soft, exploratory, then dizzying kiss. Kenver was very sorry when it ended, not to mention aflame with desire. Should he beg pardon? But she had seemed eager.
Miss Moran blinked as if returning from a far distance. “I always wondered what it felt like,” she murmured.
Had that been her first kiss? “And what did it feel like?” he wondered.
“Odd and then…sweet.” Her voice was uneven. “And after that, a bit like those riptides in the sea. As if I could be swept off and never find my way back.”
Kenver felt a rush of aroused exultation. It was perhaps the headiest emotion he’d ever experienced, making his head spin. “You really must marry me,” he said.
“But you never intended to…”
“Doesn’t Shakespeare say something about taking advantage of the tide in one’s affairs. Tide, ha! That’s apropos.”
“‘There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune,’” Miss Moran recited. “‘Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.’”
Kenver sorted through this sudden spate of eloquence, with partial success. “That’s it,” he replied. “Take the current, avoid the shallows and miseries. How do you remember it all?”
“I read it.” Miss Moran gazed up at him, tempting him toward another kiss. “But that’s Brutus,” she added.
“Who?”
She continued examining his face.
“I should know,” Kenver said. “I don’t. You can tell me such things.”
“Brutus stabbed Julius Caesar in the middle of the Roman Senate.”
“Ah, yes. I remember. ‘Et tu, Brute,’ eh?”
“And he committed suicide in the end.”
“Not a very good model for us then.” He was half teasing by this time.
“I found him sneaking and peevish,” said the adorable Miss Moran.
“I believe your unique opinions will never grow stale.”
Her breath caught. “My opinions?”
“And your apparently vast store of knowledge,” he said.
“Ada said I would find someone who thought so.” She looked desolate suddenly.
“Who is Ada?”
“One of my school friends. She’s married now.”
He squeezed her hand in an attempt at consolation, though he wasn’t quite clear what for. “And so shall you be. Won’t you?”
She gazed at him searchingly again. “Are you sure? Truly?”
Kenver nodded. “It’s a bit surprising. But I am.” He held that conviction in his eyes. Because he meant it.
“All…all right,” she said.
