"Until now?"
He looked at her sharply. "What makes you think anything's changed?"
"You're here, aren't you? Helping with the fair, dancing on platforms, fighting geese. That's not opting out."
"That's being conscripted by a very determined widow with a list."
"You could have said no."
"Could I? You're very persuasive."
"I'm moderately persuasive at best. You wanted to say yes."
"That's presumptuous."
"That's accurate."
They were sitting closer now, whether from the brandy or the warmth of the fire or simply the magnetic pull of honest conversation in a storm.
"Tell me about William," Alaric said, partly to deflect from his own revelations and partly from genuine curiosity.
"He was... kind. That sounds bland, but his kindness was radical. He saw the best in everyone, believed in second chances and third chances and fourth chances. He made me laugh every day, even when things were difficult. Especially then."
"How did he die?"
"He caught a cold working in the rain, insisted he was fine, and by the time he admitted he was ill, it was too late. Three days from diagnosis to death."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I. But I had him for five years, and they were good years. Better than many people get."
"Do you miss him?"
"Every day. But it's different now. Less sharp. More like missing a friend who moved away; sad but survivable."
"And you never thought about remarrying?"
"The village seems to think about nothing else. But I haven't met anyone who made me want to risk that kind of loss again."
"Until?" The word slipped out, loaded with implications he hadn't meant to voice.
Marianne looked at him, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "That's a dangerous question, Edmund."
The use of his name, well, the name he'd given her, made something tighten in his chest.
"I seem to be full of dangerous questions tonight."
"Must be the brandy."
"Must be."
But they both knew it wasn't the brandy, not really. It was the storm and the isolation and the way honesty seemed easier in the firelight than in daylight.
"You have flour in your hair," Alaric said suddenly, needing to break the tension.
"Still? From earlier?"
"Just here." He reached out without thinking, brushing the powder from a strand near her face. His fingers lingered perhaps a moment longer than necessary, and he felt her breath catch.
