Something stung her shoulders, and Mouse gasped. They’d leaned back into the rosebushes. Thornwood’s sleeves snagged in the branches while Mouse’s hair tangled in the thorns.
They parted, panting and flushed. Thornwood met her gaze, studying her before he looked away. He was attractive when he blushed, Mouse decided. She was not sure if it was more charming or irritating in its beauty. Mouse’s gaze drifted to his lips again. She forced her thoughts in a safer direction, dragging her eyes away from his face.
They might be married, but after their history together, Mouse knew it would be some time before she felt comfortable enough with him to move beyond heated kisses.
“Since we are establishing trust, I will tell you that Mickelwaithe might not return to your service,” Mouse said at last.
Thornwood tilted his head. “Why on earth not?”
“Besides the fact that the Faerie King broke your family’s deal with him and you ignored all the advice he gave you during the past month?”
“Yes, besides that,” he said, missing her sarcasm. “I have never listened to anything he says. Why should he start caring about it now?”
“You’re right. That is not the only reason. Mickelwaithe might have as much motivation to stay in Tithe as we do.”
His brows furrowed. Mouse stared at him, keeping her face as blank as possible.
“Oh!” he gasped after a moment. He wrinkled his nose. “The priest?”
“He’s a vicar, actually,” she said.
“Either way, he’s a dull choice.”
“How ungrateful! You are wearing his coat.”
Thornwood shrugged. “I am happy for them, although I thought Mickelwaithe had better taste.”
“You are terrible. Besides, it’s merely speculation, so don’t tease Mickelwaithe. I think it would be best for you to stay on both John’s and Mickelwaithe’s good sides for a while, since we owe them our lives.”
“For that reason only, I will resist,” he said, punctuating the statement with a wink.
Mouse rolled her eyes.
“I have one more demand, if we are to try this,” Mouse added, indicating the space between them. “This one is nonnegotiable.”
“Say it and it will be done,” Thornwood said solemnly.
“I need my name back.”
Thornwood did not question her, nor did he hesitate. He merely leaned in close, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear. “Misneach.”
A tingle ran up her spine as she felt the name return to her. She grinned.