“What can we do?” Adrianna asked. “Ophelia deserves wooing and we just ruined it.”
“I ruined it too,” he volunteered. He’d been so focused on quickly convincing her to marry him that he’d trapped her in a corner. “I’m not sure I can make it up n
ow, but I’d like to try.”
“We can help,” Juliet straightened. “Tell us what you need.”
Well,” he raised a brow. “For starters, I am going to need a lot of candles.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ophelia lay in her bed, staring at the wall to her right. She’d cried out her tears some hours before and had honestly begun to feel silly for being so emotional. She’d stayed in her room because she didn’t want to face her sisters.
She needed to apologize. She’d surely hurt their feelings by declaring that caring for them had been some sort of burden. She’d mostly loved it. And then, she’d had a crying fit about an engagement to a duke. Silliness.
After releasing a long sigh, she rose from the bed to walk to a bowl of water on the wash stand. Giving her face a good scrub, she gazed at her reflection, noting her still-puffy eyes and her slightly red nose. “You’ve gone and made a mess of this one, Ophelia,” she chastised her reflection. “Papa’s angry, your sisters are hurt, your fiancé thinks you don’t want to marry him, all because you’re holding onto a romantic fantasy of adventure and excitement.” She smoothed her skirts. “It’s time to start making amends and remember that you live in the real world.”
But her thoughts were interrupted by the faintest tap on her windowpane. She stood straighter, cocking her head to the side as she heard the sound come again. After slowly crossing the room, she parted the curtain just enough to look out. A pebble tinkled off the glass just as she bent down. She pulled away, dropping the curtain from her hand. What the devil? Just as quickly, she bent back down again, slashing the curtain back to peer down into the growing darkness of twilight.
Below her window, Chase stood with a pile of pebbles next to him as he made ready to launch another. Her breath caught in her throat. What was going on?
Quick as she could, she unlocked the sash and raised the window. Unfortunately, Chase chose that moment to launch another small stone and it sailed through the now-open glass, glancing off her stomach. “Ouch,” she said, grasping the spot. “Hold your fire.”
“Oh, Ophelia,” he grimaced. “Did I hit you?”
She lifted her eyebrows. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a little rock. I’m more curious about why you’re throwing them.”
He stood taller, tucking one hand behind his back and another to his front. “I will answer your question in just a moment. First, I need to ask you one. Do you prefer the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet or the first half of Rapunzel?”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Was he recreating a story for her? New fresh tears sprang to her eyes, but these were of joy, not sorrow. Still she quickly blinked them away. “Rapunzel. She actually gets to be with her prince.”
He gave a nod, a smile spreading across his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Clearing his throat, he called up. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel—”
She held up a finger. “Are you going to climb up my hair? Because I think that might hurt and I’m not sure it’s long enough to reach down three stories.”
He quirked a brow. “Who loves fairy tales here? Where is your imagination?”
“Funny you should ask because I’ve been thinking that I should—”
“Hang on,” he called up. “I’ll be right there.”
Her lips parted as she watched him dash to the door near the kitchen. Closing the window, she stood in the middle of the room wondering what she was supposed to do.
She didn’t have to wait long. She heard his footfalls in the hall and then her door swung open. “I’m not a prince but…” He paused with a smile.
She grinned back. “I think a duke will do.”
He held out his hand. “If you’ll permit me, my lady, I’d like to sweep you away on our own private rendezvous.”
Her breath caught. Where would they go? What would they do? Excitement beat in her chest as she finally understood what his plan was. “Yes,” she whispered and then louder. “Oh yes.”
Without waiting for her to take his hand, he crossed the room and swept her into his arms. “Right this way, my love. Time for your own love story.”
* * *
Chase swept Ophelia into his arms, hoping the gesture made up for the gaffes. He’d hit her with a rock, he’d left her standing as he’d raced up the stairs. He’d fashioned a rope ladder, actually, to get her down. Her father had loads of rope out in the barn but the way things were going, he hadn’t wanted to risk it.
She let out a little yelp but a smile graced her lips and her eyes crinkled in merriment. “Where are we going?”