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“I would do it again,” he pointed out, drawing another small smile from her.
“You can release me now,” she said, lifting her hand off his chest. Reluctantly, he lifted his arms from her, holding them out wide to show he had done as she asked.
“In spite of being here for such a short amount of time, I seem to be doing whatever you ask of me,” he pointed out with a wry smile, watching as she smiled too at his words.
“Then may I ask one more thing of you?” she said, stepping away and walking around him. “May I have a little longer to be alone with my own thoughts, Your Grace? Leave me in peace out here to look at the waves.”
“No, I cannot do that,” he said, following her toward the cliff edge. Something in her words had sparked something in him, a need to get her back to the house at once.
“Why not– ah!” she yelped as he took hold of her waist another time and lifted her into the air. “This is beginning to become a habit. One I do not enjoy.”
“You’re smiling though,” he said, flirting with her as she turned her head and tried to hide the smile.
“Put me down, Your Grace. I wish to look at the sea.”
“This is an order I will be ignoring. What kind of host would I be if I let my guest stare at the ocean in the middle of the night when she would be much more comfortable indoors?” he asked, carrying her toward the house with their chests still pressed together.
“You’d be a host that abides by his guest’s wishes.”
“Hmm, not tonight. I’ll be a host that protects them,” he said succinctly. “We have cliff falls around here, you know. I’m relieved you had no intention to jump after all, but do you think I’d leave you out here? What if you were to happen to fall when you were standing at the top?”
She looked up at him, startled with her eyes wide in the moonlight.
“Exactly,” he said. “I will not risk your life so.”
“You do not need to carry me back to the house,” she pointed out, frowning at him. She tried to wriggle free again.
“Consider it ensuring you will not escape back to the cliffs,” he said, smiling at her, listening as she let out a growl of frustration.
“This is not proper!”
“Preservation of life matters more than propriety.”
As they arrived at the door of the house, he tried to hold her up in one arm as he reached for the handle, but the lack of hold on her gave her more opportunity to escape. She wriggled out of his arms, down to the ground. For a minute, he thought she was going to go back to the cliff. He blocked off her path with his body. Yet, she hadn’t been going that way at all; she had been turning to the door. The combination of their bodyweights flying the same direction brought them to a clatter against the wall, with her back to it and him pressed to her.
“Your Grace,” she whispered as their faces were brought close to one another, both panting. “This is hardly any more proper than before.”
“I suppose not,” he agreed.
Beside them, the door handle twisted. Both of their gazes flitted toward it, just as the door opened.
