Page 125 of Charmless

“Then do it,” I urged.

“But Greenleaf was right when he pointed out how your fortunes will change when your stepmother marries Lord Redmond. You could have so much more than I can offer you.”

“As if I care about that! Even if you decided to pursue your boyhood dream of working in a stable, I will work right alongside you. Although I do admit I have never been quite comfortable around horses, but I am sure I could learn.”

Horatio smiled but became serious again. “Very well, if you can wait for me until I travel to the Asylum?—”

“Absolutely not. I am coming with you.”

“Ella, I cannot allow you to do that. The trip that far north will be a long and dangerous one.”

I fetched a long and gusty sigh. “You know, I so look forward to the day when you realize I am not some delicate damsel that needs to be coddled.”

Horatio chuckled. “I realize that now, my dear. But there is your family to consider. Surely you don’t want to leave before you see your stepmother wed and your sisters settled in their new home. And you must decide what you are going to do about Withypole’s shop.”

“Rot Withypole!” I grumbled, but I conceded Horatio was right. “When do you intend to set out on your journey?”

“I wish I could leave right now for my own peace of mind. The sooner I learn the truth about my lineage, the better. But Iwill need the new king’s permission to absent myself from my duties.”

“Do you think Sidney Greenleaf will allow that to happen?”

“He will have no choice. There is a tradition for a new king to grant favors to his subjects on his coronation day. I will explain that I need to attend to some problems that have arisen with the farm I inherited from my adoptive parents. Sidney could surely raise no objections to that.”

I wished I could believe that. It was not in Horatio’s nature to lie, and I wondered if he could be convincing enough to deceive the canny wizard about the true purpose of his journey. I had a feeling that Greenleaf wanted to keep Horatio under his watchful eye, one way or another.

“All right,” I agreed reluctantly. “I will give you two weeks until you return for me.”

“Two weeks! Ella, I could barely make it to the Asylum in that time. Give me two months.”

“No. What about three weeks?”

“I will need at least thirty days.”

Before I could argue further, my honorable commander employed a quite dishonorable method of persuading me. He smothered my protests with his lips, kissing me senseless.

When I finally emerged from his embrace, with my pulse racing and my head reeling, I would have agreed to almost anything.

“Very well. Thirty days,” I said, kissing him quickly lest he divine what I was thinking. If he had not returned to me during that time, I vowed silently to go in search of him.

Many kisses later, we left the shop, locking the door behind us. Night had fallen but the revelry continued around lit bonfires and blazing torches. Horatio’s arm looped around my waist as we paused to watch a bandy-legged man piping out a tune while couples danced, homespun skirts flying up and hob-nailed bootsstomping in rhythm. It was wonderful to see the down-trodden bottom dwellers happy for once. Yet as I rested my head against Horatio’s shoulder, I felt detached from all the merriment.

My feelings were such a tangle of contradictions. I felt sad about my impending separation from Horatio and worried for his safety on his arduous journey. We faced so many obstacles to our happiness. My stepmother would doubtless disapprove of my betrothal to Horatio to say nothing of how Mal would react. Whatever Horatio discovered at the asylum could have a huge impact on our future. And there was always the lingering threat posed by Sidney Greenleaf.

But for the moment, I managed to thrust my fears aside and think of nothing but my overwhelming love for this noble man. Horatio brushed a tender kiss across my cheek. As I nestled in his arms, my gaze was drawn skyward and I caught my breath at a streak of light breaking the darkness of the night, wondering if it was a good omen.

Perhaps it was merely a skyrocket someone had fired. Or maybe it was a shooting star.

Or maybe, just maybe it was the glimmering wings of a fairy heading North.