Chapter 21 The Train Home #3
Celise turned to gaze at Elias Blackwood. It was a long way to look up. He stood at ease in his dark blue greatcoat, his hands clasped behind him, his hair mussed from the long ride, and his boots smudged with dust from the road. He looked a bit weary and ruffled, but none the worse for wear.
He glanced down at her, meeting her gaze. “Is there anything else you would like?”
Celise didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t ask the Duke of Gravenmere to buy her biscuits at a farmer’s stall—could she?
“No, thank you, this is more than enough, Your Grace,” she stuttered, slipping into servile speech, a force of habit.
She winced.
Elias raised an eyebrow.
The merchant handed them a basket laden with treats. Celise thought she saw quite a few extra bags of biscuits and a small jar of honey hidden amid the plump, pebble-sized moonberries.
“Here you are, my lady,” the young man said.
“Oh, thank you,” Celise murmured. She reached to take the bag, but Elias grabbed it first, his arms longer than hers. He handed the boy a few coins. As she watched the copper chips exchange hands, she felt a bit self-conscious.
“Really, Your Grace, this is too much. . . .”
“Is it?” Elias asked. “It’s just a handful of biscuits and a few berries.”
“I mean to say, you don’t need to trouble yourself—”
“It’s no trouble.” He gazed at her with a piercing quality that made her tremble.
In the bright sunlight, her veil of nobility began to slip, and she cast her eyes down, hunching her shoulders.
The spell of Gravenmere broken, she was suddenly returned to her lowly status as a stable-hand, standing before one of the highest lords in the realm.
Surely, he could see that?
“I believe you still have my coat,” he pointed out in a dry voice.
“Oh! I do. Um, I’m sorry, it’s in my trunk. I was going to return it to you, but we left the castle before I could. . . .” Celise glanced around, wondering where their bags had gotten to. Then, down the platform, she spotted a familiar-looking gray trunk being loaded onto the train. She gulped.
“I can fetch it if you’ll wait for a moment—”
“No need, you may keep it,” Elias said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Keep it?”
“Yes. To remember me by.”
“Oh.”
“Wear it, should you wish. It’s good luck.”
“I . . . I couldn’t do that . . . .”
“Whyever not?” His smile widened. “It suits you.”
Celise didn’t know what to say. Her jaw hung open. She imagined she looked as stupid as she felt.
“I also wanted to give you this.”
He held out his hand, offering her a leather-bound book. She took it curiously. The black cover was worn with age. The sides of the pages were dusted in gold leaf. It looked valuable, perhaps a first edition of a classic.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a novel about horses. The story of a horse’s life, actually. It’s written from the horse’s perspective."
“Really? Then I will be sure to enjoy it.”
“There are a few chapters of political commentary in the middle. You can skip those. I always do.”
Celise gazed at the title along the binding.
The cursive script was hard to decipher.
She wasn’t a very strong reader, and she hadn’t tackled a full novel in a long while.
Reluctant to reveal her ignorance, she pretended to open the book and glance over one of the pages.
Then she closed it, once again shy. She didn’t know what to make of the gift. Did it mean he wanted to see her again?
She looked up at him. Their eyes met, his gaze glinting, a half-smile curling about his lips.
The hiss of steam from the train and the platform’s hubbub faded into the background.
She knew people recognized him—she had seen several groups pause to look in their direction—but at that moment, she didn’t care. His features became her sole focus.
He reached out a hand. He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, effectively capturing her head and holding her still. He searched her gaze, not quite asking for permission, though giving her a chance to pull away if she wished. She didn’t.
Then, with hooded eyes full of unnameable heat, he dipped his head down and placed a kiss on her mouth.
Celise’s heart thundered in her chest. The softness of his mouth startled her.
It was only her second kiss, and she didn’t really know what to do.
At first her lips were stiff and awkward.
He sensed her shyness and took control, gently nibbling at her bottom lip, teasing her until her jaw relaxed. Then he went deeper.
Her breath caught. His tongue slid against hers, not deep enough to drown her, but enough to express his need. His hand cupped her jaw: possessive, firm. Mine.
If anyone on the train platform doubted who she was—who she belonged to—now they knew.
Celise melted forward. She moaned softly, greedily, startling herself.
Encouraged by that small, breathy sound, Elias angled her head farther back, deepening the kiss, effectively stealing her wits and silencing her thoughts.
Celise’s head went completely empty. A beautiful heat curled through her belly.
A flush grew in her cheeks. The sweet sensations he drew from her mouth overwhelmed her senses.
Her ears were burning, the top of her head tingling, her fingers going numb.
She could feel his mana. It tickled her nose, spilling into her through their shared breath, heating her blood.
Was it possible for him to share his mana with her?
The flicker of thought opened up a new world she had never before considered.
What happened to a Luminary’s mana when they fell in love?
Was it shared? Gifted to one another as she breathed in his oxygen?
Her hands curled into the lapels of his jacket. How could he express so much through a simple touch? No longer did he seem cold and unapproachable. She curled closer against his powerful body, seeking the shelter of his arms.
In status and rank they were worlds apart—yet in this, they fully connected.
Seconds passed by, stacking up to an inappropriate amount of time for a public embrace. But she held on. When he began to straighten, she leaned forward, stubborn, her hand clutching the lapel of his jacket.
She sensed his smile.
Please . . . she felt the words pass through their joined lips. Please don’t let me go. She didn’t want to return to the Dhastel ranch. She wanted to remain in his embrace forever.
Then she realized—the engagement wasn’t a farce. Whether by fate, chance, or accident—this was real. The duke had chosen her to be his bride. She didn’t know why. It didn’t make sense. But if he wanted her, she didn’t think she could refuse him.
She didn’t want to refuse him.
Except she needed to breathe—needed to take a breath.
She finally pulled away with a soft, reluctant gasp. Elias’s hand went to her face, gently brushing a strand of raspberry hair behind her ear. His thumb stroked across her cheek as he cupped her face. “Better?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
“Let’s not be strangers to each other.”
“Alright.”
“Take your medicine on the train. Don’t put it off.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
She found herself gazing up into the duke’s secretive silver eyes.
Eyes that she recognized; eyes that she trusted.
She thought of the thieves outside of Gravenmere Castle and her abduction.
How she stole his horse and ran off with his coat.
How he mistook her for a spy. His knowing gaze met her own, sharing those secrets, and a complete conversation passed between them in a single glance.
I don’t know you well, but I know I was meant to meet you.
Despite herself, Celise subconsciously raised a hand to her mouth, pressing her fingers against her lips in memory of their kiss.
Elias watched her movements, a spark of fire igniting his gaze.
Then the train whistle shrieked across the platform, shattering the moment.
Lady Marcella’s voice was the next sound to interrupt them: “Come, Celise! It’s time to board.
We’ve made it this far; let’s not miss the train.
” She bustled up to Celise’s side and grabbed her by the upper arm, interrupting her brief, intense moment with the duke.
“Decorum and decency! We are in public. Don’t make such a spectacle of yourself, girl.
It’s improper for a young lady!” Then Marcella beamed at the duke, showing the whites of her teeth.
“My goodness, did His Grace buy you all of this? What a kind gesture! Katrina and Heather just love honeyed biscuits! This will make the train ride much more enjoyable. You really shouldn’t have, Elias. Thank you for your generosity.”
Marcella reached for the bag in the duke’s hands, but Elias jerked it away.
She stopped cold.
Celise flinched as well, sensing Marcella’s indignation.
Instead, Elias motioned to Dasha, who stood a tactful distance away on the platform. The dark-haired maid quickly approached them and took the heavy paper bag out of Elias’s hands, bowing as she did so.
“Please ensure my betrothed is provided for on her ride home,” Elias instructed Dasha, who nodded with wide eyes. “I entrust you with her care.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Dasha bowed again.
Then Elias turned back to Marcella, who still looked pale. “I will have to visit your estate presently, Lady Dhastel, to discuss the terms of the engagement with your husband.”
“The terms . . . of the engagement . . . of course,” Marcella said with a crooked, utterly false smile.
“We will look forward to it. Please pass along our gratitude to your father. It was a charming weekend. Very . . . eventful. I mean, wonderful. We are so happy for our girl.” Marcella seemed incapable of looking at Celise directly, so she smiled at the hedges that bordered the train platform.
Elias raised an eyebrow. Then he turned back to Celise.
“I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say—no charming joke or witty remark. He seemed to sense her insecurity and took her hand.