“How thoughtful,” she said wryly, holding the skin into the light of the fire. “Helen put Theodosia down here to clear out any rats.”
Holding his throat with his hand, he managed to ask, “W-who is Theodosia?”
To his surprise, Mary laughed and shook her head. “She isHelen’s ball snake; quite a lovely creature, about four feet long, and better than any cat at mousing. Now, all we need to find are the drinks.”
Looking around at the different cells, Trevor realized that his betrothed was not joking. Sitting on a table in the last cell was a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice with two tumblers. He moved to retrieve the entire table. He had no desire to set either the wine or the glasses on the dungeon floor. There were too many scratches on the floor that did not look quite human.
“Do you know what these markings are?”
Wrinkling her nose, Mary smirked at him. “Oh, do not mind them. The Stringhams kept a stolen lion in here for a few months whilst they built it a large enclosure on the nearby river island. There has not been another animal in the dungeon for nearly thirty years.”
Trevor rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but Mary continued to retrieve cushions and place them by the fire. He picked up the stack of blankets and brought them over. Mary sat down on the cushions and wrapped a blanket tightly around her shoulders. She patted the cushion next to her and he sat down so quickly that he nearly tipped onto his back. His pulse thundered in his ears, and he could only be glad that the light was poor, for his cheeks felt as hot as the fire.
“Only the Stringham girls would try to matchmake in a dungeon,” Mary said with a little snicker that was positively adorable. “And if you ignore the torture artifacts, it is a rather romantic location with firelight.”
He raked his hands through his hair. “I-I did not know that you did not know that I was coming for Christmas.”
She gave him a radiant smile. “I suppose the girls thought that the surprise was a part of the present. But I knew that they were up to something, for they have been on their best behavior for nearly a fortnight, and I’ve been waiting for the mayhem to erupt.”
A smile played on his lips. Mary had changed. She was bolder, happier, and more lighthearted. Mary of the past had been a bit serious and solemn, qualities that are praised in a daughter of a rector and a wife of the clergy. Yet, as his temperature increased by her nearness, he could not help but admire this new, more confident Mary. Wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, he watched her takeoff her glasses, which had become a little foggy, and wipe them off.
“I knew—I knew who they were without them even introducing themselves. Lady Frederica, Lady Helen, and Lady Rebecca are just as you described them.”
She quirked up an eyebrow and looked guilty. “Perhaps in appearance, but I may have prevaricated a little on their personalities.”
“How so?”
Tipping down her chin, she said, “I have exaggerated how much improvement they have made underneath my tutelage. You see, when I first met the Duke of Hampford, he told me a story aboutan animal called a dodo.”
Trevor was not particularly well versed in the natural sciences, but he nodded, hoping she would explain in greater detail.
Speaking with her hands, she said, “It was the most interesting looking but flightless bird. Unfortunately, it was hunted to extinction in 1681. The duke told me that humans try to destroy the rare and exotic creatures of the world, when they should be celebrated for their differences.”
Swallowing, Trevor realized that Mary was rare and that he did not wish for her to be the cowed and obedient caricature of a clergyman’s wife. No. He wished to celebrate her intelligence and wit. She did not deserve to be in the background, but in the center of the room.
“The world is full of ordinary people,” Trevor said slowly. “If you have allowed your charges to remain strong and creative, you should be lauded, not censured.”
Mary took his hand and brought it to her cheek almost worshipfully. Trevor nearly swallowed his own tongue.
She rubbed her soft skin against the back of his wrist. “But I have failed my sweetest Becca. She still cannot read with any sort of accuracy, and I do not know how to help. It is beyond my abilities.”
“Then how did she know the contents of my letters?” Trevor asked, his curiosity piqued. “Unless you read them to her?”
Shaking her head, she brought his hand down to her lap and still held it. A fact that he was most grateful for. “No. I would not betray your trust like that. I am certain that it was Helen who read them to her. She is the most charming of snakes and promised me not to open my letters anymore. So, I think that Becca has been steaming them open for her, so technically Helen didn’t lie…I should be furious at the pair of them, but I cannot be angry with you here next to me.”
He could not help but return her smile, stretching his free arm like a cat. “My bishop insisted that I come and spend the holidaywith the Duke of Hampford despite Reverend Stone’s disapproval. ‘Dukes are not to be refused,’ he said.”
Chuckling, Mary kissed his hand. “And the clever girls probably knew it.”
He wanted to inquire why her charges called him “Poor Trevor,” but he was not ready for this euphoric moment to end and reality to come back with its frost-like bite.
Yes, he was at a castle for Christmas, but he still had no living with which to support a wife. Nor had he received Mary’s response to his suggestion that they end their engagement. And he did not wish to know.
Not now.
Not yet.
Picking up the wine bottle, he uncorked it and poured two full glasses of red wine for himself and Mary. These few moments in a locked dungeon may be all the memories that he had to cherish with her. He handed her a glass and took a cautious sip. He rarely imbibed more than sacramental wine, but he knew by the taste that this was an expensive bottle of spirits. Not the type typically served to the local clergy when they were invited to dinner.