Read Online Midsummer Moon by Laura Kinsale - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Kinsale
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her kite, “It's nothing, Ransom. Really it doesn't matter. I can make another one, I think. Yes, yes, I can, I'm sure of it. Almost sure of it. Oh, Ransom—” She sniffed, suddenly overcome by the realization that most probably she would never see Ransom or Thaddeus or Theo or her flying machine again. “Oh, Ransom,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."
"Are you indeed?” he said. “I'm bloody glad to hear it."
Merlin jumped, so abruptly that she nearly slid off the seat with a deep sway of the carriage. She scrambled upright, catching the lavender-scented compress as it fell from her forehead. “Ransom!” she gasped. “Whatever—I was afraid you—But what are you doing here? Oh, no,” she wailed, “they've captured you, too!"
He had been grinning at her, resting casually back against the seat with his beaver hat cocked, but at that he looked indignant. “They most certainly have not. That fellow in the other seat turned out to be a poor hand at fisticuffs in the dark. Dropped him with one good right."
He looked pleased with himself. Merlin sat holding her forehead and trying to puzzle out the sequence. “So you have rescued me already,” she said.
"In a manner of speaking."
"My,” she said wonderingly, “I must have been carried a long way for you to have to bring a coach to fetch me home."
His self-satisfied smile turned grim. “You aren't going home. Not just yet."
"I'm not?” She pursed her lips. “Well. I suppose I might wait a day or so, if you think it necessary. But I hope I can remember how I made the kite that long."
"I'm afraid a day or two won't suffice, my girl. I'm taking you to Mount Falcon for an indefinite visit."
She sat up straight. “You can't do that. I don't want to go."
"Consider yourself abducted, then."
"I will not! You've rescued me."
He smiled. “Actually, I fear I'm the one who kidnapped you. You didn't recognize my shriek when you nearly unmanned me with that gallant kick last night?"
Merlin blinked. She frowned at him, and at the unconscious man on the opposite seat, and pressed her aching temples. Finally she said in a glum voice, “I don't believe I understand."
"Poor Wiz.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “You don't have to understand. Just let me take care of you."
She resisted him for a moment and then gave in to the steady, comforting pressure of his embrace. She drew in a shuddery sniff and blew her nose on the lavender cloth. “That seems altogether too s-simple."
"Does it?” His breath ruffled her hair. “It's begun to seem quite perfect to me, Wiz."
She said tremulously, “I suppose you still want me to marry you."
He rubbed the back of her hand, a gentle touch that made the knot in her chest go queer and melting. “I think it's the right thing to do. It's a hard world, Wiz. I wouldn't want you to suffer for my sins."
"I liked what you did,” she said in a small voice. “I think Bishop Ragley is stupid to call that a sin."
He was silent for a long moment. His finger traced the bones in back of her hand. He took a deep breath and let it out harshly. “Some times and some places, it is most definitely a sin. It was unforgivable, what I did. I'll live with it all my life."
Merlin bit her lip. “Will it make you very miserable?"
"Ashamed,” he said softly. “Unspeakably ashamed, to have hurt you."
"But you didn't hurt me."
"In the eyes of the world, Wiz, I've ruined you. I know you don't understand that. I hope you never do. I hope you let me make the only reparation I can and allow me to marry you."
"But my flying machine...” Merlin hesitated. “You don't like it."
His fingers paused in their gentle rubbing. “I never said I didn't like it."
"My ‘damned flying machine,’ you called it. ‘A bloody fantastical flying machine.’ You said I would most likely break my head.” She swallowed. “That's what you said. I remember."
"Well, most likely you would break your
"Are you indeed?” he said. “I'm bloody glad to hear it."
Merlin jumped, so abruptly that she nearly slid off the seat with a deep sway of the carriage. She scrambled upright, catching the lavender-scented compress as it fell from her forehead. “Ransom!” she gasped. “Whatever—I was afraid you—But what are you doing here? Oh, no,” she wailed, “they've captured you, too!"
He had been grinning at her, resting casually back against the seat with his beaver hat cocked, but at that he looked indignant. “They most certainly have not. That fellow in the other seat turned out to be a poor hand at fisticuffs in the dark. Dropped him with one good right."
He looked pleased with himself. Merlin sat holding her forehead and trying to puzzle out the sequence. “So you have rescued me already,” she said.
"In a manner of speaking."
"My,” she said wonderingly, “I must have been carried a long way for you to have to bring a coach to fetch me home."
His self-satisfied smile turned grim. “You aren't going home. Not just yet."
"I'm not?” She pursed her lips. “Well. I suppose I might wait a day or so, if you think it necessary. But I hope I can remember how I made the kite that long."
"I'm afraid a day or two won't suffice, my girl. I'm taking you to Mount Falcon for an indefinite visit."
She sat up straight. “You can't do that. I don't want to go."
"Consider yourself abducted, then."
"I will not! You've rescued me."
He smiled. “Actually, I fear I'm the one who kidnapped you. You didn't recognize my shriek when you nearly unmanned me with that gallant kick last night?"
Merlin blinked. She frowned at him, and at the unconscious man on the opposite seat, and pressed her aching temples. Finally she said in a glum voice, “I don't believe I understand."
"Poor Wiz.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “You don't have to understand. Just let me take care of you."
She resisted him for a moment and then gave in to the steady, comforting pressure of his embrace. She drew in a shuddery sniff and blew her nose on the lavender cloth. “That seems altogether too s-simple."
"Does it?” His breath ruffled her hair. “It's begun to seem quite perfect to me, Wiz."
She said tremulously, “I suppose you still want me to marry you."
He rubbed the back of her hand, a gentle touch that made the knot in her chest go queer and melting. “I think it's the right thing to do. It's a hard world, Wiz. I wouldn't want you to suffer for my sins."
"I liked what you did,” she said in a small voice. “I think Bishop Ragley is stupid to call that a sin."
He was silent for a long moment. His finger traced the bones in back of her hand. He took a deep breath and let it out harshly. “Some times and some places, it is most definitely a sin. It was unforgivable, what I did. I'll live with it all my life."
Merlin bit her lip. “Will it make you very miserable?"
"Ashamed,” he said softly. “Unspeakably ashamed, to have hurt you."
"But you didn't hurt me."
"In the eyes of the world, Wiz, I've ruined you. I know you don't understand that. I hope you never do. I hope you let me make the only reparation I can and allow me to marry you."
"But my flying machine...” Merlin hesitated. “You don't like it."
His fingers paused in their gentle rubbing. “I never said I didn't like it."
"My ‘damned flying machine,’ you called it. ‘A bloody fantastical flying machine.’ You said I would most likely break my head.” She swallowed. “That's what you said. I remember."
"Well, most likely you would break your
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