She took his offered arm and Henry led her out the open door and into his gardens. The night was young and few had reason to escape the heat.
“What is it that you need to tell me?”
Henry stared down into her green eyes and words failed him. If she rejected him, he would look the fool. But he would lose her if he did not tell her what was in his heart.
Never had he been so afraid to voice what he was thinking or feeling.
“Your Grace?” Penelope asked with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I have simply come to a stunning revelation these past few days and I am trying to find the right words to express…”
“Express what, Your Grace?”
“Quit calling me that.”
Penelope startled and took a step back.
He must stop issuing orders or Penelope would leave him and likely the ball.
“My name is Henry and I would like you to use it.”
“It is too familiar.”
“Not after the kiss we have shared.”
Even in the poor light he could see her cheeks warm to a lovely crimson.
“Yes well, we lost our heads and it shall not happen again.”
Oh, he intended for it to happen often, and hopefully tonight.
“Your Grace,” she prompted when he did not speak again.
“Henry!”
“Which is the third order you have given me tonight.”
“Because you are being difficult.”
“I most certainly am not.”
“I want to hear my name on your lips.” For some reason it was terribly important.
“And if I do not?” she taunted.
“Then I shall kiss you most thoroughly where everyone in the ballroom can see.”
Her eyes widened and she took another step back and brought a gloved hand to her breast. “You would not dare!”
“Do you care to wager on it?”
She stared up at him with fear and alarm. “I suppose I do not,” she finally said.
He arched an eyebrow, stared down at her and waited.
“Henry.”
He couldn’t help but grin.
