Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Forty-Three

Hugh and Constance walked along the edge of the forest late in the evening.

"I love Summer," Hugh said, his face tipped toward the orange tinted sky. "Even a full moon night is only a few hours long."

"Shall I stay with you in the cellars tomorrow? You in a cell, me on the outside?"

His face clouded. "I don't think so. Carlson isn't sure you're ready and I don't want you down in that rat infested jail. I don't want to tempt fate twice."

"I'm supposed to be your assurance so Hannah can come home." She fidgeted with the satin sash on her dress.

"I know," he said, taking her hand and pulling her down a deer path into the woods. "Carlson is trying to figure out logistics. How close do you have to be? Do we make a place for you in the kitchen? Maybe you can be upstairs in your room? It may take some experimenting. But don't worry, the old man will have a plan."

He ducked under a tree branch. The path was wider here, lined on both sides by cherry trees still in bloom. Branches met overhead, creating a living roof. The lane led to a crumbling tower. It smelled sweet and earthy, their feet crushing delicate pink blossoms underfoot.

Constance's heart expanded inside her. She'd always been too practical for magic, but this was definitely magic.

"I know," Hugh said, bringing her hand to his mouth so he could kiss her fingers. It caused a tingling sensation to rush up her arms. "The wolf loves it here. One of the few things we agree on. It's old and secret. I think he feels a kinship to it."

They walked toward the castle ruins. Mother Nature had reclaimed nearly all of her. There was the tower and enough walls that you could see the shape of what it had been, but most of it was crumbling open to the sky.

"Hannah and I played here as children. I honestly don't think my father even knew it existed. This was where we felt safe."

He led her under a stone archway into a courtyard where gnarled apple trees stood sentinel and soft grass carpeted underfoot. She had the same feeling she'd had at Westminster Abbey. The past was closer here.

"Constance, I never want you to feel trapped by me. I know how you feel about the way Baines sees you as his property. That marriage is a prison."

He'd felt all that? She needed to talk to Carlson about shielding her thoughts more. "Marriage to him is a trap." She clarified.

"I don't see you that way and I want to belong to you as much as you belong to me, here." He pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart.

Her own heart fluttered, and she felt her cheeks warm.

"Everything I have is yours. And I want to be at your side as an equal, not as your lord. Will you—" his voice wavered. He was staring at her hand. "Will you let me care for you?"

"Yes," she whispered, her whole body trembling. "Hugh Connor, I want to be your wife. I choose you every day. And when I was being held at Greyfield, all I wanted was to find my way to you."

He barked a relieved laugh. As if he hadn't been sure.

"You know I come as an odd set?" She said, wishing she didn't have to ruin the mood.

"You come with a few family members," he said. "I come with an entire village. Your people are my people."

"And yours mine, if you're sure."

He smiled at her.

"My emotions are yours too, apparently," she said. "Sorry about that."

"And mine yours." He answered, looking at her lips. "Of the two of us, mine are prone to more extreme passions."

"Extremes," she agreed, looking at him.

"There is no way to rid me of the wolf. Are you sure?"

"Wolves are loyal, clever, and strong. Your wolf saved me and Simon." Her voice broke. "I love your wolf. I'll always love him because he's you."

He pulled a small sapphire ring from his pocket and slid it onto her finger. It reminded her of the river he'd first pulled her from, and the rain that had drenched her as he'd carried her to freedom. It reminded her of the night sky and the moon and it reminded her of the feeling she got deep inside when she saw him, a man and a wolf—wild and untamed.

"It's an old family heirloom," he whispered.

"It's perfect."

His lips met hers, warm and gentle. Not hungry like they had been before. This time they lingered and even when they brushed against her forehead and each of her cheeks, they took their time. And she felt then as if they had all the time in the world. That here she was safe with Hugh beside her their lives stretching out before them.