Because she was unable to read a lot of the stuff in the chamber and was insatiably curious about the sixteenth century, while the men had worked, she'd stolen away frequently. She'd thoroughly explored the castle, leaving no part untouched: the buttery, the larders, the kitchens, the chapel, the armory, the garderobes (though scrupulously cleaned daily, those she could have done without), even Silvan's tower library—where she was grateful to discover she could translate some of the more recent works. The elderly man had copies of every philosophical, ethical, mathematical, and cosmological treatise of historical significance on his meticulously organized shelves.
Also during those hours away from Dageus, she'd gotten to know Nell and had met his young half brothers, Ian and Robert, precious dark-haired two-and-a-half-year-old boys with sunny dispositions. She could hardly look at them without thinking what beautiful babies Dageus would make.
And that she'd like to be the one he made them with.
A delicious little shiver raced over her skin at the thought of making a family with him, building a future.
For the past ten days she'd watched him carefully and had concluded that he definitely cared about her. He treated her the same way Drustan had treated Gwen that day at Maggie's castle, anticipating her desires: slipping from the chamber library to fetch her a cup of tea or a snack, or a damp cloth to wipe dust from her cheek. Disappearing into the gardens and returning with an armful of fresh flowers, leading her to bed and covering her naked body with them. Lazily, tenderly bathing her in the evenings before a peat fire, helping her plait her hair like Nell's. She felt treasured, cosseted, and though he didn't say it, loved.
She'd realized, while watching him and reflecting upon all she knew of him, that Dageus MacKeltar would probably never speak of love, unless someone spoke to him about it first. Gwen had essentially told her that much back in the stones.
Dageus doesn't look for love from a woman because he's never been given any reason to.
Well, Chloe Zanders was going to give him the reason to. Tonight. Over a romantic dinner in their bedchamber, which she'd already filled with urns of fresh-cut heather and dozens of oil globes that she'd pilfered from other rooms in the castle.
She'd set the scene, embellishing it with romantic touches, Nell had arranged the menu, and all she had to do was speak her heart.
And if he doesn't say it back? a niggling little doubt tried to surface.
She thrust it firmly away. She would entertain no doubts, no fears. A few days ago, over mugs of cocoa in the kitchens, she and Nell had had a long talk Nell had openly shared her own experience with Silvan, and had told her about the twelve years they'd wasted. Chloe couldn't imagine loving in silence for so long.
Twelve years! Sheesh, she wasn't going to be able to wait twelve more hours.
When Chloe had been a teenager, not knowing anything about kissing, she'd practiced on a pillow, feeling inordinately silly, but how else was a girl supposed to get a feel for it? She'd read books, and avidly watched movies to see how lips met and where noses went, but it wasn't the same as actually trying to press her lips to something. (Personally, she harbored the firm conviction that there wasn't a person alive anywhere in the world that hadn't practiced kissing on something. A mirror, a pillow, the back of their hand.)
Since her first kiss had been reasonably successful, she decided that practicing saying "I love you," wasn't a completely idiotic idea.
As there weren't exactly a plethora of mirrors around the castle, when she left the gardens, strolled into the great hall and spied the shiny shield hanging on the wall near the hearth, she yielded to impulse, dragged a chair over to it and hopped up, peering at her reflection.
She wanted the moment tonight to be just right. She didn't want to stutter or stammer around.
"I love you," she told the shield softly.
It hadn't come out quite right. It was a good thing she'd decided to practice.
She wet her lips and tried it again. "I love you," she said tenderly.
"I love you," she said firmly.
"I love you," she tried a sexy voice. Reflecting a moment, she decided it was probably better that she just speak normally. She didn't do throaty well.
Saying it felt good, she thought, staring at her reflection. She'd been holding it so tightly inside her that she had begun to feel like a pressure-cooker about to blow her lid off. She'd never been able to keep her feelings to herself. It wasn't part of her make-up, any more than casual sex was.
She smiled radiantly at the shield, pretending it was Dageus. The three simple words just didn't seem like enough. Love was so much larger than words.
"I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you more than chocolate. I love you more than the whole world is big." She paused, thinking, searching for a way to explain what she felt. "I love you more than artifacts. I love you so much it makes my toes curl just thinking about it."