“You’ll be happy to know that your guardian has given his consent as well,” Ramsey added, putting space between them.
Grace took a step toward him, unwilling for any distance to part them.
“I’m trying to be honorable,” Ramsey replied, grinning wildly as he arched a brow and took another step back.
Grace arched a brow, then daringly took another step toward him.
“You’re making it exceedingly difficult.”
“Good.”
He put a chair between them, arching a brow and chuckling.
Grace stepped on top of the seat of the chair.
He smiled, then chuckled, which turned into a broad laugh as he shook his head. “Well, I believe that solves one question.”
Grace frowned, looked down, and then back to her fiancé. “What is that?”
He glanced meaningfully down at the chair cushion she was standing upon, and then back to her, meeting her gaze directly. “You don’t need a footstool to be my height, my love. You need a chair.”
A smile teased her lips before a giggle bubbled out. Drat the man, he was right. She was finally seeing him eye to eye.
And it was all thanks to the chair between them.
Leave it to him to find the one thing that could distract her from her mission. With a twist of her lips, she leaned forward and kissed him. “All the better to kiss you.”
When she released him, he met her gaze with one of warm affection. “Shall we tell the others?”
Grace nodded, reluctant to leave the cozy parlor, but knowing she needed especially to tell Samantha.
“After all, Heathcliff asked me an important question earlier tonight. And I finally have the answer.”
“Oh? And what was that?” Grace asked as he took her hand and led them from the parlor.
“When were we having a wedding.”
