“Oh! Thank you.” She once again placed her hand sedately on his arm. “That would be wonderful. I miss my horse.”
He guided her along the path toward the garden. Did only the chance to ride interest her? “You have your own horse in the land you come from?”
“Yes. You sound surprised. His name is Black Pepper.”
Piobar Dubh. “Your family must be wealthy.”
She shrugged. “Middle class, but I received a small inheritance from my grandmother, which pays for his upkeep.”
Gregor had no idea what middle class meant, and he worried, mayhap, they didn’t suit. He still didn’t quite understand all the chief tried to explain about her circumstances. Would she be happier with someone from her own land?
They continued along the path in silence, his previous eagerness subdued.
Did he really want to wed a stranger? From a faraway land? And if he understood correctly, from another time? Though he could barely credit such a fanciful notion.
At the garden archway, he slipped her hand into his and entered first to ensure naught was awry. He’d vowed to keep her safe.
“Oh, this is lovely,” she said as they traversed the path through the garden beds filled with vegetables and herbs to the rose garden, where he seated her on the turf bench, abloom with small, fragrant white flowers. The gentle scent was heady. As was her beauty.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
He frowned. “Whatever for?”
“For not believing your story about the pixies.”
“I guess ’tis hard to believe in something you have never seen.”
“I saw one last night.”
Her admission made his brows rise. “You did?”
“Yeah. In my room, while I was bathing. Before you came. She wore a purple gown and had sheer lavender wings. Like that one there.” Emily pointed to a dragonfly-like creature perched on a shiny rose leaf.
He held out a hand and the ebony-haired pixie jounced onto his palm.
Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee.
The wee creature’s voice tinkled like the sweetest chimes.
“Here is another!” Emily leapt to her feet and held out a hand. A blonde pixie with green wings landed on an outstretched finger. “This one has iridescent peridot wings.”
Gregor brought his hand closer to his face for a better look at the one he held.
Emily did the same with hers. “Hello,” she murmured.
Tee teehee hee. The pixies giggled again, before blowing dust into their faces. Then with more giggles, they flew away, high over the garden wall.
Emily and Gregor sneezed in unison, and then dropped onto the bench, overcome with laughter. Tears of merriment streamed from both their eyes.
“They are so cute,” Emily said, when she sobered.
“The gemstone in your wedding ring is the same color as the green pixie’s wings. I sent a missive to my father last night requesting it be brought here in all due haste. I fear I must present you with a temporary, lesser quality substitute at the ceremony today. I doubt my mother’s gold ring will arrive in time.”
“A peridot. How lovely.” Emily twisted on the seat to look directly at him. “Your mother’s ring?”
“She passed many years ago during childbirth.”
“I’m sorry.” Compassion filled her gaze. “Your father? Should the wedding be postponed until he arrives? I don’t know much about you and nothing about your family. Don’t you think that odd?”
