Dragon Rose(70)

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Most likely he referred to the gaiety of the Midwinter gathering around us, but in my mind his question meant so much more. “It’s wonderful. More than I had ever dreamed it would be.”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand me, instead taking me by the hand and leading me into a little side gallery, where a mullioned window looked down over the snow-covered gardens. “I invited all these people, thinking it would be a gesture of goodwill, but I confess now that I would much rather they were elsewhere.”

Since I knew no one could see us, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him soundly, my body thrilling as he folded me into his arms and deepened the kiss. I tasted mulled wine on his lips and tongue, as no doubt he tasted it on mine as well.

“A poor host,” I said, after we had pulled apart. “And yet, I must be a poor hostess as well, for I confess I feel much the same way.”

“Ah, well, we must console ourselves with the knowledge that there are many more nights to come after this.”

“And mornings, and afternoons…”

He laughed then, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Yes, and those, too. And you said you would teach me to paint—”

“And you would teach me to ride—”

“So I did. We have all these things to look forward to, but in the meantime, I suppose we should not shirk our duty as hosts.”

“No, I suppose not.” I kissed him again, quickly, a deposit against a future, more lengthy engagement. “Shall we go back in?”

He nodded, and took my arm, and led me back into the hall, where once again we were surrounded by well-wishers. Light and warmth filled the room, a bulwark against the cold winter night, and from a place of honor above the mantel the portrait of Theran looked down on all of us, that secret smile still touching the corner of his mouth.

Seeing it, I smiled as well.





THE END