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“Henrik.” I angle my head up, giving him easy access to my lips, letting my eyes flutter shut in sweet anticipation.

He leans down until his mouth is very near my ear, and then he whispers, “Not yet.”

I jerk my head back, staring at him. “It’s not like you’ve never kissed me before.”

“You just said you’d wait,” he points out.

“I didn’t know I’d have to wait forthat,” I argue. “You should have made it clear.”

Henrik chuckles as he pushes aside the wet boughs, holding them for me so I can duck underneath. “You should have asked for clarification before you agreed.”

Cursing Bartholomew under my breath, I roll my eyes and step under the tree limbs. Water drips onto my cloak, but the rain seems to have stopped. Clouds churn low, creating a light haze of mist, cold on my cheeks and nose.

I should have known Henrik would want to take each and every proper step. We raced ahead, but now we’ve circled back to the beginning, and he has the chance to start again—this time on a straighter path. It’s so genuinely Henrik; I can’t even be angry with him. I sigh, coming to terms with the fact this might take a while.

“We could speed things along, you know,” I say, my tone bright with mischief. “Our courtship would move along so much more quickly if I were with child.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing when Henrik whips his head back. He’s so appalled, I’m surprised he doesn’t drop the wet branch on me.

“Even Lawrence wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live in shame,” I go on. “We’d be married by the end of the month.”

“Clover,” Henrik says, exasperated. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

“I cansaythem—I just can’t act on them.” I pause, unable to help myself. “Unless you want me to?”

He lowers the branches once I’m clear, daring to take me by the shoulders. His smile eases when he realizes I’m only teasing him. “You’re wicked.”

I grin. “And you’re withholding kisses like a coy maiden.”

He chuckles as he looks away.

I run my hand up his chest and drop my voice. “Is it so wrong I want you?”

“I want you too.” Henrik looks back, his smile softening. “But it will be sweeter if we wait.”

“So you won’t kiss me until we’re officially courting?”

He shakes his head.

“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll try to be patient.”

Shielding his face, Henrik looks up as gentle rain begins to shower the garden once more. “It’s going to start pouring soon. We should get back inside.”

We leave our pine-scented sanctuary, walking close together until we reach the well-groomed section of the garden. The viburnums are in full bloom now, their snowball-like clusters of white flowers hanging from the bushes, heavy with moisture. A blanket of petals lines the ground underneath them, having succumbed to the rain.

It’s serene, quiet. Everything is at perfect peace.

When Ayan approaches us as we reach the practice yard, wearing a look that contrasts my happy mood, I’m tempted to turn the other way. Whatever somber news he’s bringing, I don’t want to hear it.

“What is it?” Henrik asks immediately, apparently not sharing my instinct to flee.

“Caldwell has come for a visit,” Ayan says.

The name teases my memory, but I can’t quite place it. “Who?”

“Our paddle ship captain with the questionable morals,” Ayan answers, and his usual smirk finally cracks through his solemn expression.

“What’s he doing in Cabaranth?” Henrik asks.