Page 69 of A Fragile Enchantment

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“There are no hard feelings between us,” Rosa said. “But I don’t want to see you in that column again. Do what you must to ensure that.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Rosa tipped her face toward the sky, and some of the tension eased from her shoulders. The clouds skated overhead; the soft wisps of white spread like the wings of a dove. “There is Miriam with the curricle now.”

When Niamh climbed in, she nearly sank to the floor and wept. Until today, she’d never realized that shame was a solid thing. It sat as heavy as stones in her pockets.

19

Foolishly incautious or not, Niamh couldn’t wait another moment to speak to Kit, and she knew exactly where to find him.

Once Rosa and Miriam dropped her off, she circled around the back of the palace and set off determinedly toward the hothouse. But when she rounded the corner, her heart tripped over itself. Kit was emerging from the woods, his shoulders draped in the spill of late-afternoon sunlight. He was golden and flushed, the very picture of summer. They each stopped dead at the sight of the other. Anticipation coursed through her, and her toes curled in her slippers as she approached him.

“We need to talk,” she said.

His gaze darted to the palace windows overlooking the back lawn. “Not here. Walk with me.”

She fell into step beside him as he led her deeper into the gardens. As soon as the flowering shrubs rose high enough to shroud them, he offered his arm to her.

Niamh stared at it for a moment. “So youdoknow how to be a gentleman.”

“In theory,” he replied dryly. “If only so you don’t keel over again.”

He doesn’t know about the column.How selfish could she be, to steal yet another moment? She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

A hedge maze loomed above them. When he guided her inside, she breathed its sweet, delicate scent.Jasmine.The entirety of the labyrinth was jasmine. The loose white gravel of the path crunched underfoot as they walked, and with every corner they turned, the walls seemed to rearrange themselves. Neither of them spoke until they reached the center, where a gazebo kept its lonely watch. Vines twined up its marble columns and knotted into the lattice of its cupola.

Here, they were completely alone: no prying eyes, no one listening.

It should’ve flustered her, or perhaps thrilled her, how within reach all of her smallest, most breathless desires were. He’d forgone a cravat—curse him—allowing her a glimpse of his collarbone. She wanted to hold herself steady against his elbows and tip her face up to his. She wanted to feel his heart beat against her cheek when she embraced him. She wanted to pull him down into the grass beside her. To tuck flowers into his hair, to talk until the sun set, to laugh at how easy it was to fluster him now that she knew exactly how to do it. The way he looked right now, his eyes wary and hopeful, she knew he would let her indulge each and every one of them. Lovelace had ruined everything. The sheer injustice of it made her so angry, she almost began to cry.

“What is it?” Kit pressed, concern bleeding into his tone. “You look sad.”

“Have you read Lovelace’s column today?”

He tilted his head at her. “Lovelace? I didn’t think anyone read that drivel except for my brother.”

“This is serious, Kit. Someone saw us.”

“What?” For the first time, he looked alarmed. “When?”

“They saw me follow you at Woodville Hall. It was quite vague. And now Rosa knows! She is not upset with us. Well, sheisupset that her father may discover the truth of what has happened, but…”

He didn’t seem to hear her at all. He retrieved his pipe from his breast pocket and placed it into the corner of his mouth.

Worry washed away all of her fears. “Kit?”

“I’m fine. Don’t bother asking.” But he opened his vesta case with trembling hands. After a few clumsy strikes of the match, the flame flickered to life with a low hiss.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said gently. “I understand that you—”

“Stop doing that.”

The harshness of his tone stung. She took a reflexive step backward. “Doing what?”

“That.” He huffed. “Do you even realize you’re doing it? The moment you see the opportunity to comfort someone else, you leap at it. You’re trying to be helpful to avoid your own feelings.”