“Vivacity,” he countered sternly.
Oh.Elodie’s heart gasped.Vivacity. That was a word a woman could enjoy for quite some time before overthinking it to the degree of deciding it was an insult.
“As for you offending those people with your apologies and generous attempt to help,” Gabriel continued, “that wasn’t why they denied us shelter. It was because you mentioned that we’re from the British government. I suspect they’re smugglers.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They had a bowl of strawberries on the table, despite it being autumn.”
“Strawberry smugglers,” Elodie said, managing not to laugh.
“Yes.”
It was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard, and the fact Professor Tyrant, advocate for absolute truth, was clearly just saying it to protect her from self-castigation, made everything inside her grow so warm she felt like she was melting. She could not prevent herself from tipping her head to rest its cheek against his shoulder.
“Do you think it’s going to be a disaster?” she asked quietly.
A few uncertain seconds passed before he replied. “Not necessarily. We just have to be mindful of the situation’s complexities.”
“Thoughtful.”
“Yes.”
She lifted her arms and set them hesitantly around him. Hecupped one of his own hands against her head, employing the other to stroke her back. Thus the wrecked, boggy field was transformed into paradise.
They stood together for what felt to be hours (and yet not nearly long enough) while the sweet, timid quiet slowly deepened to something richer, more robust, like coffee that had been allowed to steep. Elodie was inclined never to let go. Now that the initial shock of his embrace had eased, Gabriel began to feel like solid ground, untroubled by weeds and impervious to enchantment. Standing within his embrace wasn’t quite a feeling of safety, for she was too shy and too aware of his potent masculinity; half her senses clamored for more kisses, whereas the other half wanted to do what she always did and run away. So not a comfort—but certainly a delicious unease.
“We should get moving,” she said finally, with a reluctance she could not quite hide. “We need to find the source of the disturbances before someone is hurt or worse.”
“Agreed,” Gabriel answered.
No moving occurred, however, other than him tilting his head to rest it against hers, and her pressing her lips to the strong plane of his shoulder (not kissing; merely a placement of the mouth), and much leaping and trembling of pulses.
“Oh my stars and garters!”
Elodie jolted, supposing that she’d shouted her feelings aloud. But in fact it was a woman emerging from behind a high hedgerow nearby, leading a group of some half a dozen people. They presented what Elodie could only describe as a catastrophe of colors. Orange, purple, green, and red jumbled together—and that was just on the first woman’s dress. The entire group was similarly attired.
“Look, Bobby!” the woman shouted. “It’s fixin’ to be a real firecracker show!”
Elodie and Gabriel hurtled apart. The woman, however, was pointing beyond them. Glancing around, they discovered that, while they’d been hugging and dreaming like a pair of undergraduate coeds, magic had been creeping up on them. Several small ignes fatui hovered over the boggy ground some fifteen feet away, looking remarkably malevolent for mere balls of light.
“Ain’t no need to yell like a cat making kittens, Roberta!” a man shouted back. “I’m standin’ right here!”
Elodie and Gabriel shared a grim look.“Americans,”they muttered.
“Stand back, please!” Elodie called out, gesturing for the group to retreat from the ignes fatui. They did not move, except to lift binoculars that they trained on the magic—at least the men did. Elodie noted most of the women seemed to have focused on Gabriel’s forearms. Frowning, she strode toward them with sudden, authoritarian vigor. This was a trick she’d seen other professors use to disperse students who wanted to ask questions at the end of a lecture, and it worked: the tourists hastened backward until Elodie had them shepherded out of the ignes fatui’s direct path and, as a bonus, no longer ogling her husband quite so overtly.
“Hello!” came a familiar voice. From the midst of the group emerged Tegan Parry, carrying a large picnic basket. “What a surprise, seeing you here!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were going to the old mine this morning. I guess geographers really know how to cover ground.”
She turned to the group of tourists. “Everyone, everyone, we have an extra-special treat for you today! These people arefamous scientists who have traveled all the way from Oxford University to study the enchantments of our picturesque village. Exclusive to guests of the Queen Mab, and for only a penny each, they’ll be happy to answer your questions about magic.”
“We will?” Elodie said dazedly.
“We’re not famous,” Gabriel grumbled.
“Well…” Elodie shrugged. “I’m a little famous.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You are?”
