Page 56 of Sir Andrew and the Authoress

“How was your birthday picnic, Josie?” His grin had softened into something gentler, and his brown eyes were dark with sincerity. “It cannot be perfect, of course, without your parents here.”

She stepped closer, their joined hands falling between them. “I had a wonderful afternoon. Thank you, Andrew, for everything. I cannot remember a birthday I enjoyed more.” His gentle grip of her gloved hands momentarily tightened, then released.

“I have a gift for you.”

The admission made her blink. “A gift?” No one outside her family gave her gifts, and even theirs were small tokens to show a measure of thoughtfulness. “When did you find me a gift?”

She didn’t imagine his blush, or the way his gaze darted elsewhere, as though nervous. “Come inside. I want to show it to you.” He held his hand out again. “Please?”

Josephine put her hand in his. She followed him, glancing up once before they entered the castle, looking at the row of windows and wondering if anyone had noticed that she was yet with Andrew.

The entryway was silent, and they slipped into the downstairs sitting room. The windows here were thrown open, and the chairs and other furnishings were warm. Arranged comfortably around the hearth, waiting for visitors to step inside and have a chat over a cup of tea.

Andrew took her through the next doorway into a room decorated in rich greens and blues, with paintings of forests and oceans all over its walls. Here a pianoforte waited along one wall, its surface well-polished and gleaming. This would be where they would sit in the evenings, she knew. A more intimate place in the castle for those invited to partake of a meal.

They went through the next set of doors. Here they came into a study with shelves along the walls, though not so many as to call the room a proper library. There were comfortable chairs drawn near the fireplace, and a desk beneath the wide window. It was here Andrew brought her, drawing her along to the desk, letting her fingers slip away from his.

A slim wooden box set in the middle of the desk. He gestured to it. “For you, Josie.”

She circled the desk to sit in the leather chair behind it, and the gentle silence of the castle settled her nerves. The doors were open, and the late afternoon sunlight cast a golden glow over the room. They were alone, and all was still.

Josephine lifted the latch on the box, then opened the lid on its brass hinges. She stared at the beautiful pens inside. Three of them, their length made of wood and lightly carved to resemble ivy with the metal nibs shining on the end, bright and new. A small vial of ink rested in the velvet lining, too. The word indigo was scrawled on the ink’s label.

She took off her gloves and laid them beside the box, then ran one finger over the center pen, admiring it. The world blurred when tears pooled in her eyes. “You remembered.”

“I didn’t.” He stepped closer, his voice low. “I bought them the very same day we stood in front of that shop together. The moment you left, I went inside and purchased them. Even then, I think I was already half in love with you.”

Josephine gasped, turning to face him, blinking. “What did you say?”

“I was halfway in love with you that day I followed you into the Burlington Arcade.” His eyes glowed amber in the evening light. “I bought the pens because I knew you would love them.”

“You were halfway in love?” She stepped closer to him, and this time settled her fingers on the corner of the desk. The only thing between them.

His hand came to rest beside hers, then he shook his head and gathered her hand up in both of his. His grip was gentle and warm, and so familiar. “Maybe more than half. Perhaps nearly all the way there.” His smile appeared, though with less confidence than she’d ever seen him wear. “Josie. I know I have plagued you, teased and laughed at you, and I have argued with you on utterly ridiculous topics. But is there a chance, even the smallest chance, that you would grant me permission to try to win your heart?”

The tears spilled over then, even as a laugh burst from her lips. But she did not keep him waiting as she nodded, rapidly, and laid her free hand upon his cheek. “Of course you may. Yes, Andrew. If you can overlook all the times I offered you insult, or treated you without patience.”

A relieved smile, then a shaky laugh, preceded Andrew putting his arm around her waist and gathering her closer. “I deserved it all, Josie. I was exasperating.”

“Yes, I recall telling you as much.” She tucked herself closer to him. “Andrew, you should know. I think…I think the day in the rain was the moment I thought—that I wished things were different between us.” She blushed, as she had nearly every time she remembered the way he had looked at her. The two of them drenched and standing in the road. They had stood this close, then, too.

And she had thought he wanted to kiss her.

“Did you?” Mischief kindled in his eyes once more, and he bent his head. Then his gaze dropped to her lips as it had that day in the rain. “Why?”

Dare she tell him the whole of it? Admitting the truth now, with so much time wasted between them, excited as much as it frightened her. She sucked in her bottom lip and watched his eyes darken. She leaned nearer, tilting her chin upward as she whispered, “Because I’d never felt safer than when you held me in your arms.”

Their lips met, the two of them coming together at the same moment and with the same gentleness. Their first kiss, tentative and curious, was far better than she’d imagined. Andrew held her against him, lips caressing hers, pulling away softly only to return immediately.

Josephine stood on her toes, and his hands steadied her as they rested upon her waist. Her hands went to his shoulders to because they looked strong and broad, and she wanted to feel those things for herself. They came apart with a soft gasp, and Andrew rested his forehead against hers. Josephine took in a trembling breath, then released a generous sigh.

“Josie,” he murmured, his lips caressing her cheek. “Let me court you. Let me speak to your father, your brother, and secure permission to show you how I adore you, and once I have convinced you that no one is better suited for you than I am, let me marry you and bring you home to this castle. That is—” Uncertainty clouded his eyes once more. “—if you think we could be happy here, together.”

His castle, where they stood at that moment, as her home? She couldn’t imagine anything better. She stepped carefully away from him, smiling and blushing. They had so much to learn about this new form of communication. This new way to speak to one another, to tease one another. “Andrew.” She laid her upon his chest, over his heart. “You know all my secrets but one. Wherever you are, I will be happy. Because I am already yours.”

Even though she had thought it impossible to improve upon their first kiss, Andrew immediately proved her wrong.

He’d always been quite good at doing that. And this time, she would even forgive him for it.