by Amanda Quick
“I am content with your father’s journal, thank you,” he growled. “I don’t want your bloody gratitude.”
She clasped her hands behind her back. “Before I take my leave, I wish to apologize for several occasions on which I may have inferred that you were a trifle eccentric.”
“I am eccentric. Probably a good deal more than just a trifle.”
“I certainly never considered you a complete crack-brain.” In the deep shadows her eyes were very earnest. “I want to make that clear. Indeed, it has been brought very forcibly to my attention lately that there is a strong strain of eccentricity in my own family from which I am not entirely exempt.”
“Mmm. Well, there is that. Thank you for reminding me.”
“You need not agree with such alacrity, Artemas.”
“Early on in our association, you mentioned that you were quite taken with the logic that one must fight fire with fire, catch thieves with thieves, et cetera, et cetera. What do you think of the notion that it takes an eccentric to deal with an eccentric? “
She slanted him a distinctly wary look. “What do you mean? “
“If one follows your line of reasoning, one might conclude that the marriage of two noted eccentrics might prove quite satisfactory to both parties.”
She cleared her throat. “Marriage?”
“Provided, of course, that the various eccentricities of the individuals involved proved complementary and compatible.”
“Of course.” Her words came hesitantly.
“I am of the opinion that you and I exhibit some mutually compatible eccentricities,” he plowed on determinedly. “From time to time you have given me reason to believe that you might be in accord with that opinion.”
She froze in the deep shadows of the high wall. Beneath the hood of her cloak her eyes were unfathomable. He realized that he was holding his breath.
“Good heavens, Artemas, are you by any chance asking me to marry you?”
“As you have noted, I have some serious drawbacks as a husband. I am Vanza, I am eccentric, I am in trade—”
“Yes, yes, I know all that.” She cleared her throat. “I never felt that your being in trade was a serious barrier, sir. And as for your Vanza connections and eccentricities, well, I have my own, do I not? I can hardly complain.”
“Nevertheless, you did complain.”
“Really, Artemas, if you are going to hold every casual little remark that I might have made in passing against me—”
“Your feelings about Vanza aside, there are a few other problems, as well. I have spent far too long living alone and nursing a vengeance that I should have dealt with years ago. I expect those things have left their marks on me.”
“We all carry the marks of our pasts, Artemas.”
“I am no longer a young man with a young man’s lightness of spirit.” He paused. “I am not certain that I ever knew what anyone would call a lightness of spirit.”
“You are hardly an old man, sir.” She coughed slightly. “Indeed, I find you to be an excellent combination of maturity and agility.”
“Maturity and agility?”
“Yes. And as it happens, I am not exactly endowed with what would be termed a young woman’s lightness of spirit. So you see, we are quite well matched in that respect.”
“Will you marry me, Madeline?”
She said nothing.
Despair lanced through him. “Madeline? “
She did not respond.
“For God’s sake, Madeline, will you marry me?”
She groaned. “You are supposed to tell me that you love me first.”
“I’m supposed to—?” He caught her by the shoulders and said, “Devil take it, woman, is that why you hesitated and thereby nearly caused my heart to fail? Because I forgot to tell you that I loved you? “
“It is no small oversight, Artemas.”
He stared at her. “How could you not know that I love you as I have never loved another?”
She smiled. “Probably because you failed to mention it.”
“Well, I am bloody well mentioning it now.” He hauled her close and kissed her soundly.
When she was breathless in his arms, he raised his head. “Will you marry me? “
“Of course I will marry you.” She twined her arms around his neck and gave him a glowing smile. “Mature yet still agile gentlemen are not so thick on the ground that a woman in my position can afford to be choosy.”
He looked into her loving eyes and felt happiness shimmer through him. “How fortunate for me.”
She framed his face between her palms and kissed him in a manner that made his heart sing and his blood run hot in his veins.
“I do love you, Artemas.”
He tightened his arms around her and savored the dizzying excitement and the joy that fountained within him.
“There is just one small thing,” she began firmly.
“Anything, my sweet.”
“There must be no duels. Is that understood?”
“I told you, it is highly unlikely that anyone would risk—”
She shook her head violently. “No, you must promise me, Artemas. Absolutely no duels.”
Ah well, there were other ways to handle that sort of problem if it arose, Artemas told himself. He could be subtle when necessary. “Very well, no duels.”
She laughed. The glorious sound floated up out of the high-walled garden, as light as happiness and as real as love.