After a heart-pounding, almost maddening moment, Ash nodded, and relief made Ellie’s head light.
“I think—” She slumped to the ground again and looked around for something, anything to use and commemorate the moment, and her eyes drifted to the strands of grass she’d braided. Grabbing them, she fashioned them into rings. “I think we should get married, now.”
His brows shot up, and she went red. “Er… like a promise marriage, to, well, be married later on.”
Ash shook his head, his expression wry. Heat crept up her cheek as she got to her knees and held out the rings. “Take one.”
As he hesitantly accepted it in his palm, she added hers and covered his hands with hers. “I,Evelina Frampton, do promise to marry Ash when I am twenty years old. I promise to be his loving wife, and he promises to be my loving husband, and we will live happy and content for the rest of our lives.”
She took his hand and slid the ring onto his fourth finger, while after a moment, he did the same to her.
“There is—” she felt her face flame, “—is usually a kiss at this part.”
Ash’s head canted to the side, his lips curling into a smirk, and before she lost her nerve, Ellie leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“There,” she mumbled. “We are married… or promised to marry at least.”
A male shout suddenly cut through the trees.
“Evelina Rosalind Frampton! Where are you?”
Ellie’s head snapped to the left at the sound of her uncle, Patrick Langford’s, furious voice. Frightened at his tone, Ellie found herself frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
Should I run or stay right here?
Snapping to the left and right, she felt her heart plummet to her feet; her uncle would not take it lightly to know she had not only skipped her lessons, but to find her alone with a boy would surely push him into a rage. It went against all the propriety teachings she had been taught.
“Evelina!” Her uncle yelled once again.
Instead of pushing herself away from Ash, she pressed herself closer, seeking comfort and perhaps hiding away from theimpending fallout. Ash’s arm wrapped around her as she heard twigs and leaves snapping under her uncle’s boots.
Ash made to stand and was taking her with him when her uncle trampled through the underbrush and roared, “Evelina! Are you out of your mind!”
She trembled and turned horrified eyes to Ash, but he did not move; he was as terrified as she was. Her uncle grabbed her right shoulder and dragged her away; in a panic, she reached with her left hand for Ash. He grabbed at her but only managed to come away with the leaf ring on her finger.
Patrick snarled. “Get away from her, you disgusting runt! Unhand her!” Her uncle hauled her away, bristling anger sparking in his eyes, “Get away from here, you cur. If I see you again, I will have you in prison.”
“No, Uncle,” Evelina tried to stop him. “Stop! Please—Ash-”
“Andyou,” he pulled her through the forest. “You are never to be out of my sight, or to see him again, you hear me!”
As he dragged her through a large copse of trees, the last glimpse Ellie had of Ash, was him clenching his hand over the makeshift ring.
Across town…
Pocketing his pay of a half crown and pennies, Dorian turned to the dark streets and headed back; the half-moon was a sickle above him in the dark sky.
He ran a hand through his dark, soot-covered hair and, with the broom flung over his shoulder, began trudging through the dark alleys of London, set on heading home.
A cold wind buffeted his back as he turned a corner, and he sensedthem.
To their credit, the footpads were light on their feet, but Dorian was lighter and faster. When he was sure the robbers were set on him, he burst into a run, and using his detailed memory of the streets in Covent Garden, darted into an alley where it forced the men to attack him single file.
An ugly mug with a horrid scar down his face leered from the darkness. “We got ye, boy.”
Dorian held up both hands, one still holding the stick of the broom, “Are you going to kill me for three silvers?”
“It’s enough to buy a jug of blue ruin,” the first man replied while two more faces loomed over his shoulder.
