“What?” Drew asked on a laugh. She pulled away from him, confused.
“I’m bollocks at identifying the correct moments for things,” he said, reaching into his pocket, “but surely we can spare five seconds right now.”
Drew blinked at him, watching as he produced a tidy leather box from his coat and held it out.
Drew’s heart went still, as still as the box in his hand. She stared at the gift and up at Ian. He winked. She looked back to the box, unaccountably shy about taking it.
“Go on then,” he said lowly.
Drew glanced at the girls. They were fussing over the flowers in Imogene’s hair. She looked back at Ian and then snatched the box. It felt warm from his pocket. It was heavy. There was no rattle inside. With shaking fingers, she pulled the lid.
“Oh, Ian.”
Nestled inside flaps of white silk was a ring. The setting was comprised of blinking stones in the shape of an insect. It had a sapphire body and legs made of small bright diamonds. Stones of red, orange, and green added colorful embellishments. It was radiant—unique and artful but also startlingly beautiful.
“A very late, very irregular wedding ring?” Ian ventured, coming closer, staring into the box.
“Oh, Ian,” she said. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. I should never find its equal, even if I searched my entire life.”
“Well said,” he chuckled. “That is precisely the way I feel about you.”
“Thank you,” Drew gushed, taking up the ring and testing it on her finger. It just fit over her gloves.
She was just about to show it to the girls when the footman returned, signaling to Ian and Imogene. Ivy spotted the ring and pounced on Drew’s hand, exclaiming over what type of insect it might be. Timothea gave both Imogene and her brother a peck on the cheek.
“Off you go,” Drew rasped, winking at Ian.
To Imogene, she said, “Serene smile. Chin high. That’s it. Oh, just look at you.”
She grabbed Ivy and Timothea by the hand and they watched Ian and Imogene approach the terrace doors, now held wide by two footmen.
The last thing Drew heard before they drifted from earshot was Ian saying, “I should like to impose on your busy schedule to ask about taking legal action against the good Reverend Sagg.”
“Don’t bother,” Imogene replied, “I’ve detailed plans to deal with him. In my own time.”
And away they went.
