Page 65 of The Rum and The Fox

Ash smiled, but shook his head. “That’s not entirely true, though,” he said, looking away from her. “I wanted to make you my wife and I knew that you would never marry me, not unless you were desperate. I took advantage of that desperation.” He moved a little closer, resting his hands on her waist and looking down at her. Keziah stared at those soft, mossy green eyes and felt something in her heart expand and settle into place, for good. “I suppose I’d hoped, in time, that … that perhaps you might … become fond of me.”

“Oh … Oh, Ash,” Keziah sobbed, hitting his chest with frustration as the tears overcame her again. “I … I’m n-not fond of you, y-you foolish, absurd creature, I … I l-love you.”

Ash became utterly still, the only sense of movement his eyelashes as he blinked, staring at her as though he’d stepped into a mirage. “What?” he asked, sounding a little breathless. “W-what did you say?”

“You don’t expect me to say it again, s-surely?” Keziah retorted, having barely got it out the first time.

“Yes, I dashed well do,” Ash said, his tone rather firm. “I want to be good and sure I heard you right because frankly … it’s a little hard to believe!”

“Why?” Keziah demanded, folding her arms and wondering what about it was so unbelievable.

Ash ran a hand through his hair, never taking his eyes from her. “B-because you want some heroic figure, like a … a soldier or … or … I don’t know! Someone who can fire a blasted pistol and handle a sword and protect you from …”

Keziah had, by now, had quite enough of this nonsense and launched herself at him, pressing her mouth to his and stopping his words. She pulled back, looking up at him a little shyly after her boldness.

“I love you, Ash,” she whispered, watching his eyes grow wide. “I love you so much. I would not have the most heroic fellow in the whole wretched world over you, for he would likely forget my birthday, or get cross with me for being too outspoken and bossy, or for besting him with a pistol, and he would never remember how much I like sugared almonds or that I don’t like the cherries in my fruit cake, and he would never be so very kind and sweet-natured and patient and simply … the best man I have ever known.”

“You really mean it,” he said with a huff of laughter, sounding astonished and bewildered and rather wonderfully happy.

“Yes,” she said, staring at him and feeling her own happiness swell at the expression in his eyes. “I do, so much and y-you …”

“If I haven’t yet made my feelings clear,” he said, his tone amused and rather determined, “I have a rather fine idea of how to fix that.” He pulled her into his arms in a rather ruthless fashion and kissed her, hard, only to let her go a moment later.

“I say, get this blasted bonnet off,” he exclaimed, tugging at the ribbons before throwing the offending item clear across the room.

“You’ve ruined it,” Keziah said, grinning at him.

“Get used it. I should,” her husband advised with a stern nod. “I fully intend to ruin dozens of ‘em, hundreds, if they interfere with me kissing you.”

Keziah laughed and allowed herself to be treated really rather harshly as she was pulled back to him and kissed very thoroughly indeed. When he finally let her go, she was breathless and dizzy with joy.

“This dress is damp,” he observed with a frown. “You should take it off immediately, before you catch a chill.”

“Do you promise to warm me up if I do?” Keziah asked, her tone low as she watched a tinge of colour highlight her husband’s cheeks.

She opened her mouth to tease him a little more, but Ash stepped forward, his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head up and pressing his lips against hers, a barely-there touch that made her shiver with longing nonetheless.

“You’ll never, never, be cold again. I promise.”