Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Stop what? Riding?” His eyebrow rose. “After I put so much planning into this morning? Never.”
“What planning?”
“You’ll see when we get there,” he said, and took hold of the reins. “But at this pace, it might take us all morning. Do you believe you can keep up?”
“I believe I can beat you with ease,” I said, not waiting for a reply before taking off, as fast as I could muster, down the path. I could not call it a race, for I noticed he never once moved to overtake me. Instead, he either matched my pace or stayed just slightly behind. There was part of me, the part Silva was talking about last night, that actually wished to race him, to beat him. I was so used to being in competition with someone that I expected it, no matter what, and despised anyone who did not compete back in earnest. It made me feel as though they were pitying me. That was often the source of all my arguments with Aphrodite. It always felt as if she pitied my efforts.
But it was different with him. His effort to purposely stay close, allowing me to stay ahead of him, did not feel like pity. Instead, it felt like care. Like he was watching over me so as to not lose sight of me, to make sure I was all right.
Before much longer, the stone pavilion came into sight, and I slowed. The closer I got, the more shock I felt. There, upon the floor of the pavilion, was a blanket, a great number of pillows, food, flowers—a setting for a picnic. Not only that: Just off to the left side were a few of the musicians from last night’s orchestra, and to the right there were two maids with baskets, one holding sherry, another holding tea all on trays. There was even a footman standing in wait.
Slowly, my gaze shifted from the sight before me to him, only to see that he was already off his horse and at my side. Just as he had last night, he offered his hand to me. Silently, I took it, gently reaching the ground right before him, Sofonisba at my back. The space between us closed. He did not release my hand. Instead, he kissed the back of it again, then kept it firmly in his own and drew me forward.
My mind was now blank. All I could do was follow as he led me across the grass and up the stairs, allowing me to see it all up close. And I noticed all my favorites were laid there. My favorite flowers, pink peonies, along with my favorite buttered scones with red jelly, favorite macaroni made with bacon, several cuts of chicken, more bacon, fresh toasted bread with strawberries, heirloom tomato salad, green grapes, fresh lemon loaves, and every other fruit I had ever once mentioned enjoying.
“I know picnics are usually done on grass, but considering your aversion to bugs and clear love of everything sweet, I figured the pavilion would be better suited to host us,” he said, trying to bring me in. I quickly let go of his hand and moved to take off my shoes. “What are you doing?”
“I do not wish to track in dirt and ruin its beauty.”
“I believe you being here is what makes it beautiful, but if you wish to go barefoot, then so shall I,” he whispered, bent beside me. “Though you are aware that undressing even your shoes will be considered scandalous.”
I smirked as I undid the laces and took the first shoe off. “We’ve already caused enough scandal. What is this little bit more going to do?”
“A little bit more always leads to a little bit more,” he said gently, allowing me to lean on him as I took off the other shoe, before he took off his boots.
Stepping inside, I slowly took a seat across from where I expected him to sit. Instead, he sat directly next to me. I stared at him, but he glanced over the food before picking up a flower. “Never in a thousand years would I have thought I’d do something like this.”
“Why have you then?” I wanted to mention how he adamantly criticized the idea of this just days ago. But I did not wish to ruin this.
“Why else but you?” he replied, his gaze shifting to me as he held out the flower to give it to me. “I believe I—no—I am captivated, enamored with your very being, Hathor. All night, I wondered how that came to be in such a short time. I’m sure it was not just this week, but beginning when I saw you all those weeks prior. I could not rid you from my mind, nor would I want to.”
“You said you never wished to marry,” I whispered, taking the flower.