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They’re proposing.
They’re proposing to me.
With his free hand, Quoth pulled something from his pocket and dropped it into my hand. It was a shimmering gold velvet drawstring bag. “Open it,” he urged. “It’s what I was storing in the safe in our room and carrying in my beak today. I finished it just before the murder.”
I dropped Oscar’s harness and dug my fingers into the bag, tipping out a metal object into my palm.
A ring.
Aring.
I held it up to the firelight and ran my fingers over it, enjoying the twisted metal band and the different textures. Four glittering stones were set into it, like fruits hanging from the branches of a gnarled tree.
“What…what is this?”
“I thought it was obvious. It’s your engagement ring. I took the stones that Morrie had and made this.” Quoth grinned shyly. “When I saw in the Meddleworth brochure that they had a jewelry-making course, I had the idea and told Heathcliff and Morrie. That’s why Kelly-Ann hadn’t seen me at the painting studio – I told you I signed up for a painting class, but I’ve really been over in the forge, making this.”
My breath hitched as I touched each jewel in turn. A rare orange diamond that glistened with fire where the light caught it, just like Quoth’s eyes. A sapphire as cold and clear as ice for Morrie, and an onyx as deep and black and mesmerizing as Heathcliff. And for me, a brilliant emerald – the facets dancing in the firelight and creating rainbow prisms across my skin.
“We’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” Lightning cracked, illuminating the edges of Heathcliff’s dark eyes as they burned into mine. “But every time we thought we came up with a plan, your mother would interrupt with one of her schemes or Mrs. Ellis would need some help at the village bingo night or someone would get murdered or a mischievous Shakespearean fairy would steal your slippers.”
“When you were invited to Meddleworth and you were so excited about your writing, we thought this would be the perfect chance…away from Argleton and the shop and all the murders,” Morrie said with a laugh. “Of course, it was wistful thinking to hope that a murder wouldn’t follow us.”
“But in a way, it’s perfect,” Quoth said.
“Very on-brand,” Heathcliff added with a tiny, beautiful smile.
“But…” I turned the ring over and over. It was absolutely perfect. “But we can’t get married…legally, I mean…”
“I said before, no puritanical marriage law will keep us apart,” Morrie said. “The four of us are written in the stars.”
“Mina Wilde doesn’t do things the normal way,” Heathcliff added. “And she especially doesn’t do things thelegalway. Not when love is at stake.”
“We’re all ready to make some kind of wild, zany, rock ’n’ roll, proclamation to the world,” Quoth said. “What do you think?”
I studied each of them in turn. Heathcliff with his enormous shoulders hunched nervously. Quoth’s lip quirked into a heart-melting question. Morrie played with a loose thread in his cuff, his usual smirk gone. Instead, he chewed on his lower lip.
He was nervous.
James Moriarty – the spider at the center of a vast criminal web, the greatest criminal mastermind ever written – wasnervous.
“Well?” Heathcliff demanded, his voice a storm of emotion. “Will you?”
“Will I?”
“Will you make us the happiest men in this world and in all worlds that the great writers of this age could possibly invent, and marry us, Mina Wilde?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
My eyes fluttered shut. I needed a moment where I wasn’t looking at their expectant faces, where I could rest within the stillness of the gloom and ask myself if I wanted this.
I loved them so much that it hurt, but this…this was a big, bold commitment. This wasforever.
I closed my fingers around the ring.
I drew a deep breath.
I opened my eyes.
