Chapter 40

APRIL 29TH

O n Friday night, Annice and Griffin had gone out for a pleasant and leisurely meal at yet another restaurant they hadn't tried together yet. Griffin still had quite a list of those. They hadn't even got halfway through the list of ones where the chair was easy to manage. They'd come back to the flat, companionably continuing the conversation they'd been having since they sat down to eat. It had been all about the lore related to stones and woods, and how accurate some of it was when it came to making lasting objects.

Once they were inside, it was getting on for ten. Griffin took a breath. "Meet you in bed in a few minutes? I've got something I'd very much like to ask you, if you're willing to hear me out?"

Annice had been putting her cloak away, hanging it up on the hook. "Something?"

"If you'd do me the favour of listening." Griffin honestly wasn't at all sure how she'd take it, because he'd been very careful not to put any pressure on her future. And at the same time, she'd been slowly making it clear that she intended to be around for a bit. She'd extended her contract with Niobe again, this time open-ended. She'd claimed a mug of her own, and space by the bathroom sink. And while most of her clothes were in the wardrobe upstairs, some of them were in the bedroom. If she said yes tonight, they could get another wardrobe made to match his. And any number of other things, to make it a shared space, for that matter.

Ten minutes later, they were both in bed, though not under the covers. Griffin had tucked what he needed into his dressing gown pocket, where he could get it readily. Annice twisted sideways, her legs off to her right on the bed. She'd taken over the far side of the bed, by preference, just naturally, without asking. "You had a question?"

"First, um." Griffin felt tongue-tied. "I promised not to ask about the future. May I? Obviously, you needn't give me an answer right now, or until you're ready, whatever it is."

Annice tilted her head, considering him at some length, then she patted his knee. "You're actually nervous." She sounded almost delighted about it. "I didn't know you got nervous like that? You're always so sure of yourself." Probably the only other time she'd seen him this flustered, come to think of it, was back when he was telling her about being Heir. One of the Heirs in potential.

"I have not, in fact, had much practice with this particular conversation." Griffin tried to keep his dignity together, but now her eyes were crinkling up with laughter, and she was waving a hand for him to go on. He swallowed. "I know this is fast and sudden, given we haven't been talking about things beyond the next few days. But will you marry me? Please?"

She tilted her head a little more, and now he could see and hear the bit of laughter. "First, yes. Second, is this how you are doing this?"

"Getting down on my knees isn't very elegant in my case?" Griffin met her eyes, smiling back at her. "And I don't exactly have a ring. Or rather, I do, but it's a token one." He rummaged in the dressing gown pocket, bringing out the little box, twice the size of an ordinary ring box, and opened it, holding it out to her.

Inside was a narrow golden band, with a sea pattern twining through it, inlaid with chips of blue and green stones, lapis and malachite and aquamarine, so it sparkled like waves. The other side held a sapphire the colour of the ocean when they'd gone to Robin Hood's Bay. Annice took a moment to look down at them, and then her jaw dropped. "This..."

"I thought you'd like to design the ring yourself, or at least cut the stone. Though Niobe said if you'd rather she do it, of course she will. She helped me choose it. You remember that day she was out for the afternoon?"

"You went - where?" Annice was running her finger against the stone, which had only been roughly cut, just enough to give a sense of the colour.

"London, in this case. She has a contact there. She'll bring you next time, introduce you." Griffin took another breath. "It's not rushing you to ask now?"

Annice reached out to touch the stone and then the ring, and Griffin didn't rush her further. When she looked at him over the box, she said, "Would you put the ring on me, then?"

He could do that. He was fairly sure he could do that without fumbling the ring and dropping it on the bed. Though at least if he did, it would be somewhere they could find it again. By charm, if nothing else. He set the box down, working the ring loose from the pillow that held it. Then Annice was holding out her hand, fingers spread, so he could slide it on.

It fit perfectly - he'd trusted Niobe on that, of course. Now, he had to explain. "That one is lapis and malachite and aquamarine, inset, sealed with a charm over them, so they're smooth. Nothing to catch, nothing to get in the cracks." A ring for someone who worked with her hands, and with jet, and jet dust got everywhere given a chance.

"Very thoughtful." She brought her hand up, twisting it back and forth to catch the light. "The design, too, the colours of it. You think of everything." She then tilted her head. "A kiss. And then yes, I'll, um. Answer the implications of the question, or at least make a go at it."

"A kiss." Griffin rearranged himself a little as Annice closed the ring box and tucked it against her leg. She was the one who began the kiss, leaning into it, her hand drifting down to rest on his leg. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but one that was relaxed, trusting that there would be other things to come. They didn't need to rush having it all now.

When she pulled back, Annice ran her thumb along his cheek. "You've been very patient, not asking. I— it's a big change." She gestured with one hand, roughly toward Niobe's shop. "But there isn't a future in Whitby for me. Not now, and maybe not ever. And there is one here. You, but not just you. I love what I'm learning. And I can learn it. That was the part I wasn't sure of."

"I was sure of it. And so was Niobe as soon as you'd been here a day." Griffin said it earnestly, and Annice leaned to kiss the tip of his nose.

"You like to see the best in people. I'm pretty sure it's why you know so many. Besides growing up here, and meeting a lot of people through the Courts." Then she leaned back on one hand. "I need to figure some things out about Whitby. Go up there, for a day, soon. It's. I should have done it weeks ago."

"But it's a big change. And you weren't ready weeks ago to take that leap." Griffin could understand that much.

"Easter helped. Seeing, um." Annice considered, rummaging for words. "Seeing how the community works here. Different communities. That there'd be a place for me, whether you and I made a go of it or not. I mean, that parish might be awkward in that case, but we'd manage. Not that I want to!"

Griffin snorted. "Let's not. I much prefer the idea of going with you, knowing people, maybe eventually children growing up going there, like I did."

Annice flushed a little. "Like that. Living here. Or I don't know, maybe somewhere else eventually. I do like it here, though." She rushed to add that part.

"But it's very much mine, made for me. We can keep our eyes open for something else that would suit. It's finding something with enough ground floor space that's the trick. The magical lifts are slow, and it's awkward, day to day. But one bedroom downstairs, and the family spaces and a study for me, with more upstairs for you, that could work."

Griffin considered. "And for now, we can fit this up as you like. Your own wardrobe, for one, next to mine, rather than your things upstairs. You could set up the bigger room as a workshop, if you want. Keep the smaller as a guest bedroom, though my parents are happy enough to stay in one of the inns if they visit."

"First, I'd like to meet them." Annice considered, then reached to set the ring case on the little bedside table on her side, leaning to tug Griffin down. "Um. Do they know about me?"

"They do. And they'd like to meet you too. Easy enough for them to come down for an afternoon sometime. Not until after May Day, but the seventh or eighth?" Griffin shifted a little to get comfortable. "And I told you, Lamont invited us to supper. He approves of me seeing you. Or at least, he's also aware of how it looks."

"How it looks?" Annice let her hand rest on his hip, the sort of comfortable touch that he was sure she found reassuring. She kept doing it, and he kept loving it, the quiet intimacy of it.

"He made it clear it's not a deciding factor for him, but - some people judge a man who's not married and settled down. Not serious enough, not steady. Or that the job ought to go to someone who has a family to provide for." He shrugged. "And then there's all the other implications that most people are polite enough not to say where I can hear them. That I can't be fit for that purpose, not much of a man."

"But some people are rude. And those?" Annice let her thumb stroke a little on his hip. "I have no complaints so far. Except, perhaps, that we do sometimes have to get out of bed and do other things." Before Griffin could say anything, she went on. "People kept proposing that I marry their brother or cousin or someone, an invalid. People who are much of an invalid than you are. Because you're not very, so long as there aren't stairs. Where I'd spend all my time being their caregiver, no space for anything else."

"Though there are an awful lot of stairs in the world." Griffin nodded. "And you didn't want that. You wanted to have your own life. Are you all right with how things are, then?"

Annice nodded. "Neither of us knows what we'll be like in a year or five or twenty." She took a breath, then let it out, steadying herself. "But you manage your own things. I enjoy helping, it's not that I didn't want to help? But I didn't want to have to help, if you see the difference. Be relied on to always be there, whatever else was going on. But you, either you'll manage, or I'm pretty sure you'd figure out how to hire someone. A nanny, maybe. A full-time housekeeper, if we're both working and there are children and more to deal with. I don't know. But you'd figure it out, we'd figure it out, it wouldn't be all on me to be the one to get up and do the thing, over and over again. Or be the one to figure out how to make it all work. That was the part I really didn't want. Having to do all the work and all the thinking about what work needs doing, that's no fun at all."

"It does seem a trifle unfair. And you can do wonderful things with stones. Most people can't do that. I certainly can't. Each to our strengths, yeah?" Griffin let himself relax back on the bed, on his back, and then felt her snuggle up against him. "And me potentially being Heir and Lord in due course, that doesn't put you off?"

"I think I want a lot more coaching in which fork to use, and whatever else matters like that," Annice said. "We can practise having fancy meals, where there's a grapefruit spoon and what was that tonight, an oyster fork? As opposed to a fish fork. Which we also had."

Griffin chuckled. "We can find plenty of places to practise, I'm sure."

"And..." Annice swallowed. "Not tonight. We should do other things in a minute. But we should talk about money. Rather than you just arranging everything. I'd like to understand what, um. What you have? Is that rude? And I have some from Grandad. Not a lot, but some."

"We can certainly talk about that. Firm believer in sorting that out, actually, and having it documented, so we both know. Saves no end of trouble if there's a problem later." Griffin turned his head to blink at her. "Other things now, though?"

She laughed, and let her hand drift to somewhere rather more intimate. "You know perfectly well what I have in mind. In broad strokes, at least."

"Puns, is it now?" Griffin let out a melodramatic sigh. "Well. Lady's choice tonight, shouldn't it be?" The discussion of what she wanted to choose had them both laughing, mostly because her hands kept moving. Three minutes after that, Griffin was lost in the moment, and not thinking of anything but the pleasure he wanted to give her, and the pleasure she was giving him.