The Lady Most Willing

With neither interest nor urgency, he looked around. Marilla Chisholm sailed into the library. He greeted her interruption with a vague sort of relief. At least she’d spared him the remainder of that sentence: I would never ask my father to accept a man like you.

“I swear for so small a castle, people do a marvelous job of getting lost in it,” Marilla prattled on. “But no matter, I found you. We are going to play a new game and we need you to— Good heavens!” She stopped dead, her eyes growing round. “Is that Lady Cecily behind you? Whatever— Oh!” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Whatever are you wearing, Lady Cecily?”

Cecily glared at Marilla.

“Now you know who would tattle about your apparel,” he said softly before turning to Marilla. “Lady Cecily is preparing to enact a scene from Romeo and Juliet for tonight’s entertainment. She is to play Mercutio.”

“Oh,” Marilla said, doubtfully.

“Wasn’t it clever of her to dress as a young gentleman to bring veracity to the role?” he asked, the hollow in his chest growing with each passing second.

“I suppose,” Marilla said grudgingly. “But we are not doing theatrics. I have another game and you must play,” she said. “I refuse to leave unless you come with me.” She glanced at Cecily. “You can come along, too.”

“Thank you,” Cecily replied, but her gaze never strayed from Robin’s face and her brow furrowed as she regarded him.

Was his pain so evident? Poor dear girl. She had probably thought they would laugh together at the idea of him proposing to her and now he’d revealed himself, and being a tenderhearted young lady, she would be distressed that she had unwittingly caused him pain.

If he stayed here in the library with her, if he even refused to join the party, he had no doubt she would hunt him down and tender an apology, or worse, console him.

“We must hurry along. The others are waiting and you have no idea how long it took me to find them all and gather them into one place,” Marilla said. “All these couples billing and cooing as if they are the only people in the world, and no one else matters or needs to be entertained.” She sniffed.

“I suppose you haven’t heard that Lord Oakley has offered for my half sister? Apparently, he must have some sort of fascination for women who wear spectacles. Rather peculiar, if you ask me, but I suppose there’s no accounting for a gentleman’s quirks.” She shook her head, and without another word, hooked her arm through Robin’s and began tugging him toward the door.

And he went.

Chapter 26

“The game is called forfeit,” Marilla announced to the group. “And it is all the rage on the continent.”

Cecily, seated in a big upholstered chair near the fire, was in no mood to play more of Marilla’s games, but no one else seemed to share her reluctance. In fact, they all looked rather loathsomely happy and lighthearted.

Oakley was seated on a settee with his arm stretched along the back, Fiona tucked in close. Every now and again he would brush her cheek with the side of his thumb as though he could not get enough of touching her. At the other end of the settee, Catriona Burns occupied a similar position next to Bretton, and though Bretton managed to keep his hands off her, the look he bent on her was as telling and ardent as a touch.

Even Taran was in fine form. For once, he’d traded his ragged old kilt for a surprisingly clean one, below which his legs were properly hosed and gartered. On top, he wore a velvet jacket that, though a few decades out of mode, was at least well cut, and with an improbably snowy lace jabot at his throat, he looked nearly elegant.

Only one person in the room looked as dour as she felt. Robin stood beside the hearth, an arm resting on the high mantel as he stared into the fire. He hadn’t even looked up when she’d entered the room, arriving late as she’d decided to heed his advice and change out of her boy’s clothing. She’d done what she could for the blue ball gown but out of necessity had wrapped the velvet “shawl” around her shoulders again.

“And how do you play this game, lassie? Is there kissing involved?” Taran asked hopefully.

“It’s not required,” Marilla tittered, fluttering sidelong glances at Robin. “But I shouldn’t be surprised if some merry souls didn’t take advantage of a certain element of the game to steal a kiss.”

At least, Cecily noted, Robin paid Marilla as little attention as he did to her.

“I like this game,” Oakley declared. “How do you play?”

“One gentleman is chosen to leave the room. Everyone left selects something from their person and puts it on that table. When the gentleman reenters the room, he holds an auction for the various items that the rest of us bid on. The only rule is that you cannot use money as your currency. You must provide something you own, or offer an antic or a song or such. You can also bid to have your own item returned to you.”

“Where does the kissing come in?” Taran demanded.