“I have other reasons.”
“Care to share?”When he didn’t answer, she said, “Mother will like her.But she might not approve, you understand.”
Like metals, alchemists bonded strongly with whomever they married.A curse or a blessing.If they chose wrong.Or right.
“There’s something you’re not telling us, Temple.I’ve seen it for a while.You’ve been quiet.And more sullen than usual at times.I do not think earning a title was good for you.”
“It is difficult to accept praise for an action that has harmed our entire family.”
“I can understand that, but… we are proud of you, Temple.I am proud of you.I would have done the same thing.”
“Naïve, Sybil.”
“I would rather be naïve than burdened.”
“I’m not—” He sensed her before he saw her.
Diana slipped down the stairs, an old, frayed bonnet between her fingers.She wore a berry-red gown with a light paisley shawl draped loosely around her shoulders.The sleeves of her gown were tight about her arms, and the waist unfashionably high, too.A cast-off gown at least a decade out of date.But damn she looked lovely.She wove her way through the shop without looking at him.She’d focused on some spot over his shoulder, and he wanted to nudge that little chin until she saw him, until he caught her gaze and kept it.
He rubbed at this chest, something achy there, deep achy.
When she reached them, he held out his arm.“Ready, my lady?”
“I think so.”This time, she took it.
