Atop the deep green velvet lining lay a simple, golden lover’s knot ring. In the center of the knot sat a stone the same misty green hue as her eyes.
“Will you marry me, Grainne Tirlán?” His voice shook a bit.
She met his gaze, tears brimming. “I…ah…I cannot answer you now.”
“Shall I speak with your father then?” The words were firm and oddly desperate.
The worry in Luc’s voice made her heart trip.
“Nay.” Hugging the box to herself, she raised a warding palm. “Nay, we…we’ll talk to him together, after I’ve had time to think.”
“Ah, I’ve surprised you. You do know I love you?” His smile replaced the worried frown.
“Of course.” She dropped her arm. “As I love you, but marriage… Marriage is about more than love, Luc. You of all folk, should know that.” She reached out her hand and silently urged him to understand.
His expression dark, bleak, he stared at her offered hand for some time but did not take it. “Aye.”
Grainne hurried to grasp his arm and put it ‘round her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should never have mentioned…”
“That my father would not marry my mother because she is not English enough.” Bitterness dripped from his voice.
“I’m sorry, Luc.”
“No more than I,” he sighed. “I don’t want us to be like them. I want us to wed. I want our children to have two parents.”
“We’re not like them.” She turned in to his embrace, hoping to soothe the painful memories. “While you may not like him much, you have a father and a mother.”
“Let’s not talk about them.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Try the ring on. I need to know that it fits.” A sadness crept into his smile.
“When I give you my answer, I’ll try the ring, not before.” Grainne raised her chin.
“Then, at least use the other key. The box holds another gift.”
“More?” That flutter of excitement returned.
“Aye.”
She drew the second key from her apron pocket, then searched the box for a second keyhole.“How?”
Luc chuckled. “The maker was very clever. See this little knob, between these two silver leaves?” He pointed at the front of the box.
She followed the direction of his finger. “The one that looks like an acorn?”
“Aye. Push it upwards.”
Grainne did so and revealed a hidden keyhole. She put the key in and turned it.
Nothing happened. She frowned again. “I don’t understand.”
“Keep turning.”
She met some resistance, but managed to force the key around three or four times. The moment she let go, music rippled from the box.
“Early one morning just at the break of dawning….” Luc sang along with the music.
“Luc, Luc, you darling man.” Her heart sped up, and she blinked away fresh tears, hugging him tight for just a moment.
“Your darling man, only.”
