The Ostler's Boy (The Ostler's Boy Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Cyrus," I held the fabric tighter.

He smiled, slinking towards me, his shoes and remaining clothes in one hand, the other clipping my bottom lip. He met me with a sweet kiss. "I'll see you soon," he said. "Don't worry. I can be very stealthy. Josie and I will make it out of here fine."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed how charming I found him. I failed to resist deepening the farewell. When we parted, the corner of his mouth went up, and he waited by the door for my maid.

"Ready?"

Saturday and Sunday, all of Monday, again on Tuesday, and well into the coming days, Cyrus and I found every spare moment in each other's wake. We would laugh, and play silly games, try to spook the other by hiding around trees and bushes, chase each other! And when Willoughby or Josie; whoever was around, would look the other way for too long, we touched each other. Kissed each other, and lost ourselves in each other all the same.

There was a mythical ambience to being with him, a warmth that my heart could only feel with his presence. I longed for the way it would accelerate at first sight of him every morning, and every night when he crawled into my bed. It was so all-consuming that on occasion, I did not wait for our friends to turn or find distraction.

The first time I kissed Mr. Evergreen in front of Willoughby, the poor knight nearly choked on his apple.

We had set up another picnic, among the pink field of flowers Cyrus had ridden us through our first ride, and because I could not dispel the hindsight of how perfect that night had been- how he had danced with me, how kind he had been; I fawned in the afterglow.

"Things have progressed, I see," my Knight remarked.

Cyrus adjusted, whispering in my ear. "Maybe we should rein it back?" he said.

"Nonsense," I told him. "Daniel doesn't care. Tell Mr. Evergreen you don't care."

"I don't," Willoughby said. "I'm happy to see you happy."

"We are very happy, aren't we?" I turned to my Sword, proudly.

I followed Wiloughby's worried eye towards Josie, who was picking roses in the pasture.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

"Hmm?" he sighed. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"You're... staring longingly at Jocelyn?"

"Am I?" He flustered. "How embarrassing. I should fetch us more wine," he said, standing.

"Daniel?"

"Leave him alone," Cyrus cracked. "Don't go meddling."

But I resisted, narrowing my brow. "Do you like Miss Josie?"

"Svana," Cyrus cut in.

"Of course I do," Willoughby sang. "She's lovely."

"No, I mean. Do you like her. Like I like Cyrus."