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“Close your eyes now.”
Brad smiled down at Jemima indulgently. She sat there with her brows raised, her eyes closed, and her lips slightly open – like a child.
She was adorable.
It was half past midnight, and they were huddled together in the office of her father’s workshop, because it was snowing and bitter cold outside.
Her father’s smithy was an extremely unromantic place – it was an unheated metal structure, and filled with large, heavy tools that looked to Brad like medieval instruments of torture.
But as far as he was concerned, any place with the Duchess was a desirable spot, and with blankets draped around them, and practically no space between them, the tiny side office had become very cozy indeed.
Brad reached down into the shiny gift bag he’d brought, and made tantalizing crinkle sounds to heighten Jemima’s anticipation. “I bought this from a shop called Angel Secrets,” he teased her, “because it reminded me of you, Duchess. Keep your eyes closed!”
Brad reached into the basket and pulled out a dainty box of gourmet chocolates. It had cost him almost 100 bucks, but each morsel was a work of art, and incredibly delicious.
His past experience with women had taught him, when in doubt, overspend. And, he figured that gourmet treats would warm Jemima up to the other gifts he planned to give her.
“Open your eyes!”
Jemima’s eyes flew open, lighted on the beautiful chocolate box, and the bag brimming with treats, and looked up at him.
“Oh, Brad, they’re beautiful!” she gasped. She picked the box up reverently. “Why, they’re almost too beautiful to eat!”
“The key word being almost,” Brad told her. He took the box, carefully removed the cellophane, and smiled at her. “Choose one.”
Jemima scanned the box in delight. “I can’t, they’re all so pretty,” she smiled.
“Then I’ll choose one for you. This one,” he murmured, picking out a small square of dark chocolate. Some artiste had placed a tiny candy raspberry on top – a delicate purple dot, surrounded by painted flowers.
“Open your mouth.”
Jemima smiled and opened her mouth. Brad placed the confection square in the middle of that pink velvet, and Jemima’s mouth closed around it.
Her eyes flew open. “Ohhmm – dwishus!”
Brad’s smile faded. She really was just like a sweet, adorable – he shook his head, and the smile returned.
“Let’s try this one next.” He picked out a creamy white chocolate oval that had been painted with a forest scene, including a graceful deer.
“Here we go!” Jemima closed her eyes and opened her mouth again, and Brad placed the chocolate in her mouth.
“Ha!”
He caught himself up short, and shook his head. He was turning into a complete idi—
“Mmm, mmm,” Jemima moaned, and opened her eyes. “Cinnimum pecan crunch!”
Brad smiled down at her indulgently. It was just as much fun to spoil Jemima as he’d imagined it would be, and he couldn’t wait to give her more age-appropriate gifts.
But that was for later – when she’d gotten a little more used to delightful gifts.
“What’s this?” he asked in mock surprise, pulling a bouquet of exquisite lollypops out of the bag. They were tiny, completely clear, and spangled with edible decorations like gold flakes, glitter, flowers, and herbs. They were painted as if they were book illustrations: with flying birds, and smiling cats, and children dancing, and a couple kissing. Jemima reached for them, and spread them out before her like a fan.
“Oh, Brad, where did you get these?” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything like them!”
Brad unwrapped the one with the kissing couple and passed it to her with a smile. “I was kind of hoping it would give you ideas,” he told her, and Jemima laughed and kissed him, and then pressed her cheek to his.
“You’re so good, and, and generous, Brad!” she murmured fervently.
Brad raised his brows wryly. He probably didn’t deserve that kiss, but he was going to claim it anyway. He put his arms around Jemima, and kissed her back.
When they had finished exploring all the contents of the bag, and had traded kisses tasting of champagne marmalade, blackberry crème, and brown sugar pumpkin, Brad decided that it was time to put his broader plan into action. He smiled at Jemima and took her hands between his.
“Duchess, would you be willing to find out a little more about the Englisch world, if I was willing to find out more about your religion?”
The green eyes moved to him and held him.
“You want to learn about my religion?” Jemima asked in surprise. “I thought you were a – what was the word—”
“Agnostic, yes,” Brad told her, smiling. “But I like to think I’m open-minded. I like to learn about what other people believe, too. Would you teach me?”
Jemima’s eyes widened. “Oh yes, Brad,” she breathed earnestly, “if you really want to learn.”
“Oh, I do,” Brad assured her, smiling. “But if I learn about your beliefs, will you listen to mine, too? Would you be willing to – say – learn more about the world?”
Jemima was beaming. “I guess that’s only fair,” she agreed, slipped a soft hand behind his neck, and kissed him so expressively that Brad forgot his plan. He put his arms around her, and pressed her to his chest, marveling how small and delicate she felt in his arms, and that his fingers almost met around her tiny waist.
“I’ll give you all the books I can find,” she was saying, “and the newsletter, and if you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them, even if I don’t know them all. And if I don’t know the answer, I can ask the bishop for you—”
Brad opened his eyes. “Ah ha, no, don’t do that, Duchess!” he laughed. “I’m happy just to talk to you.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Jemima laughed sheepishly. “It’s just that I was so – you really want to know what we believe, Brad?”
“Yes, I really do, Duchess,” he smiled. “We’ll learn from each other. Does that sound fair?”
Jemima squeezed her eyes together in happiness. “Oh, more than fair!” she cried, and hugged him ecstatically.
Brad received her embrace and smiled up at the ceiling.
“I’m glad you agree,” he told her. “I’ll read your books, and you can come with me to a movie. Deal?”
She went still in his arms. “A movie?” she faltered. “But – we’re not supposed to watch movies.”
“Oh, well – I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t supposed to do,” he conceded. “How about a trip to see a football game?”
He could feel her relax. “Oh, that would be wonderful,” she agreed, in a relieved tone.
He turned his head and kissed her cheek.
“Perfect.”
