When he did, he squeezed her hand. “Charles, however did you know this is my favorite room in all the world?”
“You know it, sir?”
“Of course.” He flashed her a smile. “I spent hours here at play as a boy. It is the shell room, a room my great-grandmother commissioned. It is why I set sail, Charles, why I chose to adventure at sea.”
She looked a little put out, so he attempted to explain.
“Charles, I have loved this room all my life, but to see it now, brought back to glory . . . It is the perfect gift, the very best giftyou could have given me.” He traced her cheek with his finger. “Thank you, Fox, truly.”
She suddenly looked down. “You are welcome, my lord.”
“You must have spent hours in here, Charles.” He tilted her chin to look up at him. “I must inspect your handiwork.”
He began to tour the room and run his hands along the walls, across the many bumps of shells, marveling at how the room shimmered, how the mirrors reflected candlelight to give a glow to every surface. “Hmm, yes,” he proclaimed. “Just as I expected. You’ve outdone yourself, miss. I believe this proves I hired the best housekeeper in all of Cumberland.”
***
Lord Wells grinned at her, the light making his eyes dance and making Charles blush to see him so pleased. She should have guessed he knew of the room’s existence, rather than think he’d be as surprised as she was to discover it. She felt a little foolish as she fetched the wine she’d hidden earlier in the day.
“Will you raise a glass, my lord, to toast the room?”
“I shall.” He accepted the drink and held it high. “To Miss Charles Merrinan!” he declared.
“To Lord Roland Wellesley,” she responded, their glasses meeting with a clink as each took a sip. Before she knew it, his arm stole around her waist to pull her to him, his lips tasting like wine upon her tongue.
“Yours is the best gift of all this night, Fox,” he told her softly. “Shall we stay a while longer here, in this beautifully restored room?”
“Of course, sir. Only I must apologize for all the mishaps that threatened this evening’s celebration. I am so very sorry the?—”
“Hush.” He placed a finger to her lips and pulled her down to the floor, bringing the bottle with him. “All accidents, wholly unforeseeable. As if it were your fault the snow fell and Pinky’s not fit to set a table.” He topped off her glass. “I have every intention of getting you soused tonight, my dear. I want you so drunk you laugh yourself silly.” He smiled at her so warmly she felt her heart skip a beat. “I like it when you laugh, lass.”
She tried to suppress her smile but could not. “I think you merely wish to take advantage of me, Lord Wellesley.”
“I’d do no such thing,” he feigned hurt.
“You do such things all the time, sir, and you know it,” Charles teased back.
Lord Wells grabbed her for another satisfying kiss, this one longer than the last, until he broke off. “Woman, you distract me so much I forgot entirely my gift to you! Close your eyes at once, Charles.”
She did, shutting them tight while not a little afraid of what he would give her. Something smooth and cool fell into her palm and she felt it a moment with her fingertips, perplexed. “May I open my eyes, sir?”
“You may, Charles.”
She looked at the object in her hand with surprise, turning it over gingerly almost and flipping open the lid to reveal an exquisite timepiece with inlaid mother-of-pearl numerals. There was a compass in one corner and all twelve months engraved about the facing. And on the exterior case, the initials CW, making her furrow her brow.
“Do you like it, Fox?”
“I . . .” she began. “It is . . .” She thrust it back at him. “Lord Wellesley, I cannot accept your gift. It is much too fine, and far too?—”
“Don’t you dare, Charles.” His tone threatened. “You may not return a gift. And it is not too fine, it is practical instead.I specifically chose a useful gift for you, nothing overly pretty, because I suspected you’d reject finery. So no protest,” he insisted.
She remained dumbstruck.
“Go on, then,” he goaded. “Am I not to receive thanks?”
“Oh, Roland!” She threw her arms about him, forgetting all sense of decorum. “Of course you have my thanks, my warmest thanks, though I still say it is too fine a gift, however practical. It is much, much too beautiful for the likes of me.”
***
