"I feel I should apologize for being your first failure," Desmond said. He had tried without success to change Lorelei's mind, teasing and seducing, thoroughly enjoying himself, and she obviously had, too. "I was convinced I could use my persuasive abilities to my advantage, but it appears I was mistaken."
"And what about her advantage?" Martin asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You are speaking as if this were some sort of conquest—"
"It is nothing of the kind!"
Martin shrugged. "I know it is not. After all, I have listened to you bemoaning your ill fortune through two bottles of your finest claret." He grinned. "I just wonder if Lorelei views your efforts as some sort of campaign."
Desmond sat back against his chair. "It is very possible. And it is the very thing she is trying to avoid, having experienced it previously." He ran a hand through his hair. "What am I to do now? Is there anything I can do to change her mind?"
"It is not easy to change anyone's mind," Martin said with a chuckle. "If it were, we would have everyone doing our bidding whenever we wanted."
Desmond gave him a sour look. "I am changing my mind about your title. I will call you the unmatchmaking earl from now on."
"That is not necessary! Though I admit, I may take a respite from these activities. It takes a lot out of a chap, especially when the parties work so hard against my efforts."
"Mayhap it is time for you to find a match for yourself," Desmond mused. "It will give you a new appreciation for what it is like from this side of things."
Martin grumbled, taking a sip of wine. Before he could retort, a footman appeared, extending a salver toward Desmond. He reached for the envelope sitting atop the silver tray. "Thank you, Hastings."
The servant left, closing the door quietly behind him. Desmond turned the envelope over, taking a moment to study the wax seal.
His heart began to beat faster as he realized the figure pressed into the wax was a mermaid.
No, a Siren.
Lorelei. The temptress.
He quickly opened the missive, and saw a card—or more precisely, half a card. In very elegant script was written, "Meet me at the mistletoe", along with the time, two hours' hence, and the location, her sister's home.
Desmond could not keep the grin from his face. He tucked the card inside his coat. "Martin, it seems you are not a failure at matchmaking after all."
"Indeed? Yet what have I done?"
"I am not certain. I just know it was brilliant."
Martin laughed, shooing Desmond out of the room. "Let me know when we shall commence the celebrations."
"I pray it will be soon."
Martin snorted. "You have to plead your case first. I cannot believe my reputation rests in your hands. I would do better to speak with Lorelei myself."
Desmond tilted his head back and laughed heartily. "I shall do my best to ensure that is not necessary."
Martin grinned and raised his glass in salute. "To our success!"
Chapter Nine
Lorelei paced the small room, the very one Desmond had sat in, gleefully making paper chains with her and Caroline and Henry. Occasionally she glanced down at the card sitting atop the table, the other half of which she had sent to Desmond.
Would he decline her invitation? Perhaps he would believe she was merely explaining her position once more, and he had heard it many times already.
She took another turn around the room. Fortunately, she was alone. Her sister had taken the children with her into the village, giving her cheek a kiss as she left, promising Lorelei she was doing the right thing.
The suspense of waiting was proving more debilitating than she had anticipated. She needed a bit of air.
She raced to the front door and opened it, ready to step outside.
To her surprise, and utter delight, Desmond stood there.
Her heart fluttered, then raced, and then halted for a brief moment. Time seemed to stay put, too. It gave her a chance to study Desmond's expression: the hopefulness he tried to keep at bay, the genuine joy as he gazed upon her, the certainty that she was the one to make his future an unending delight.
He held up the card so she could see it.
"I was not sure you would come," Lorelei admitted.
"I cannot resist when this Siren calls to me."
She laughed. "You know the Siren calls men to their doom."
"Perhaps, at least in mythology, but it does not seem that way now."
"Desmond, I could very well be your doom. I have no experience with an amour that lasts beyond a few months. I am not certain I have the ability to remain even that long. It is not as though there are lessons on this topic."
"Not a one," he agreed with a grin. "Though we could practice every day. Surely that would help."
"I would hope so. Yet what if you wake one morning and I have departed without a word?"
"I would mourn your leave-taking, and thank the Fates I had you in my embrace as long as I did, while praying that you found happiness wherever it might be."
Her eyes welled up with tears. "You are too gracious. How can you be so when I have just confessed I am very likely to cause you heartache?"
"It will cause me heartache if you bid farewell now. If you do so later, I will have hopefully many weeks to enjoy every moment with you."
"It seems grossly unfair to you."
"Lorelei, I had begun to believe my heart would never feel these stirrings. Of course I hope it will be a lifelong experience, like that of my mother and father." He paused for a moment. "What if you woke one morning and I had departed without a word?"
Lorelei's heart gave a sharp pang of protest. "I cannot bear to even consider it. Who would I tease each day? Who would I cradle in my arms each night? Who would make me laugh about the smallest of oddities we are bound to encounter?"
"Surely there are others who have filled that role."
"There were others who tried, and who managed it briefly, but none who made me crave it for the rest of my days." She placed a hand over her heart. "I have let my doubt obscure what my heart knows full well: I only want these from you, and with you."
"You are certain?"
"I am." Her voice faltered for a moment. "Are you?"
He picked her up in his arms, kissing her until she was light-headed. "I have never been so certain in my entire life. I have been certain since the moment you rescued me that first evening…"
"I adore you, Desmond." She placed another kiss on his lips, treasuring the happiness she saw shining in his eyes.
"I adore you, Lorelei the temptress. I always will."
"I do not want to fail at this, and not for my own sake. I could not bear if your life became one of drudgery, making you wish to leave or, worse, become a mere shadow of yourself."
"Drudgery is not possible with you, Lorelei. There is always something new to explore and laugh about."
"So you will tell me if I become boring or tedious or stultifying?"
"I will not hesitate." At her mock glare, he added, "I will of course do so gently, and with humor, because I would rightly fear for my life otherwise."