Chapter 7 #2
Isabella couldn’t help the disappointment she felt. “I only mentioned my dowry because, well, it will go to whomever I marry.”
Daniel inhaled sharply. “Are you betrothed to someone?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. You mentioned a proposition,” she reminded him.
He nodded and displayed another wince. “I did, but now it seems terribly... unfair,” he murmured.
“Unfair how?” she countered.
Leading them to a park bench, he used his handkerchief to brush off the wood slats and waited for her to sit before he took the seat next to her. “Do you wish to be married?” he asked.
She grinned. “I do, but only if I feel affection for the gentleman.”
Daniel made an odd sound in his throat. “You kissed me, Izzy.”
“I did,” she acknowledged, grinning as if the memory made her happy.
He nodded slowly, although his brows showed his worry. “Have you kissed anyone else?”
“Of course not.” When he still seemed uncertain, she asked, “What is it, Danny?”
The name Daniel had answered to as a child had him straightening on the bench, memories from their youth reminding him of how happy he had been when Isabella was nearby.
How they had played in the gardens of Brookshire Hall.
How her blonde hair blew in the breeze as they ran over the clipped lawn in their bare feet.
He had a thought of how she might look now if her hair wasn’t caught up in a bun and partially covered by a hat. What it would feel like splayed over his bare chest after they made love.
Another part of him was already anticipating such a union. He shifted on the bench in an effort to make room for it.
“You do realize that if I were to propose matrimony right here and now, you will never know if I did so to simply silence the gossips or because I wished for your dowry or because... because I feel affection for you,” he murmured.
“Promise to marry me, and you can discover the answer tonight,” she whispered.
“Izzy,” he breathed, wondering if she knew her answer didn’t match the question.
Or perhaps it did.
“You’re sure you want this?”
She nodded. “I would not have come to Edinburgh if I didn’t.”
He narrowed his eyes. “So you did move here because of me?”
Dipping her head, she took a breath and sighed. “I did so miss seeing your handsome face,” she admitted.
Chuckling softly, Daniel took her gloved hand in his and rested it on his thigh.
At no point did she attempt to prevent him from doing so, nor did she seem particularly bothered by the move.
In fact, her eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief, much as they had when they were younger. He recognized her then.
Isabella Farnsworth. The perfect playmate on days both sunny and cloudy.
Armed with a mallet, she could whack the wooden ball through a series of wickets in every game of pall mall.
She frequently lost at hide and seek, usually because her yellow frock made it impossible for her to stay hidden in the garden.
As for archery, he recalled it was far better to remain well behind her or risk being shot with an arrow.
Perhaps Cupid had been controlling her aim even back then.
“You are the female equivalent of a rogue, aren’t you?” he teased, the oddest sensation gripping his chest.
She displayed a wan grin. “Until you make an honest woman of me, I suppose I am.”
He narrowed his eyes, realizing that unless they married—and quickly—gossip would paint her as his mistress, or worse, a strumpet. The need to protect her suddenly consumed him.
“So... you’ll marry me?” he asked, nearly wincing at how desperate he sounded.
She blinked, apparently not expecting the query. “Is... is that a proposal?”
Although Daniel Sinclair hadn’t spent much time considering how he would acquire a wife, he had never thought it would be as simple as this. Someone with whom he had enjoyed spending time in his youth was offering herself—and a dowry—to be his wife.
He would be a fool not to take advantage of the situation.
But was it fair to her? What would be in it for her?
A gainfully employed friend who happened to be handsome.
Isabella seemed terribly willing. She had already admitted her move to Edinburgh was due to him.
“Yes,” he said in answer to her proposal question.
He glanced around where they sat, finally locating a small dandelion bloom.
Much as they had done when they were younger, he plucked it from the grass and quickly formed it into a ring by tying the end of the stem near the yellow flower.
“What are you doing?” she asked in fascination.
“Making you a betrothal ring. This will have to do until I can retrieve my grandmother’s ring from Sinclair House and line up a wedding date with Lord McDonald.” When he saw her eyes widening, he added, “He’s a judge in the civil court. Said he could see to a quick ceremony for us.”
“Oh, did he now?” she said, displaying a look of awe. She removed her glove so he could slide the dandelion onto her finger.
“Indeed. Seems my reputation has been questioned, and I’m determined to set my best client straight on the matter. Plus he intends to pay for the work I’ve completed on his house plans.”
She wiggled her fingers and grinned. “I do like yellow.”
“As do I,” he said.
The two stared at one another for a few seconds before they leaned in for a kiss at the very same time. Having a moment to prepare, Daniel knew exactly where to place his hands, exactly how to angle his head so he could simply enjoy the intimate exchange.
They might have continued the kiss for far longer than they did but for the sound of disgust emanating from a female passerby.
“She said yes!” Daniel called out, hoping to excuse his behavior with the matron.
“You’re a cabbage-headed fool,” came the response.
Daniel scoffed as Isabella giggled in delight. When she finally sobered, she said, “Let’s have dinner at a pub. You can tell me all about your life since you moved here, and then you can take me to my rooms.”
He nodded. “And after that?”
She grinned again. “I’m going to discover if you feel affection for me.”
Momentarily shocked by the comment, Daniel barked a laugh. “Oh, I do love a challenge,” he murmured. He stood and offered a hand, and the two took their leave of the park.