Authors: Meredith Greene
“Master Luca... the girl seated to your right is pleasantry incarnate,” the elderly man said, causing Luca to turn a little toward him. “And--if I may be so bold--after listening to her conversation with you, I believe my good opinion of her has trebled.” Michelle smiled at Alfred over Luca’s shoulder, lifting her glass of sparkling cider to him. Luca eyed the aging valet critically. Alfred kept his amiable countenance until Luca smiled back.
“Is that so?” he intoned. “Then, it is
me
causing this brittle brilliance? I am flattered...” He turned back to Michelle as he spoke, favoring her with a catlike smirk. Michelle rubbed her temples, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Across the table Margaret and Sophie tittered at Michelle’s barely-concealed exasperation. The poor girl looked ready to bolt, but she still held her ground valiantly.
“I just hope William gets his priorities in order soon,” Margaret said. “Six years he’s been here, Sophie! He's nearly thirty!” Her friend nodded sympathetically.
“I am glad you brought her,” Sophie said, smiling. “This charming carina is making Luca madly jealous. I know his competitive nature. Perhaps, soon we will have our grandchildren, no?”
“No... I mean, yes,” Margaret said, giggling at her faux pas. “Here’s to grand-babies!” The glasses clinked again.
Fortunately for Michelle William returned a few moments later. Her look of heartfelt gratitude amused him very much.
“He didn’t offer to carry you off did he?” he asked, sitting down.
“Not yet,” Michelle mumbled, edging her seat closer to his.
“I would take great pleasure in doing so,” Luca stated, having heard their exchange. “Beware lest someone steal her flower away from you.”
Michelle looked askance at the man’s boldness. Her gaze dropped to a nearby steak-knife. William saw her face and quickly scooted the potential weapon away; he chuckled at his normally mild-mannered sweetheart. He knew Michelle wouldn’t resort to violence, but her nettled expression struck him as hilarious. Never before could he imagine a female going after Luca with tableware. He caressed the back of Michelle's dress, hoping his presence would soothe her.
She let out a small sigh and leaned into William’s embrace.
“How are you enjoying dinner?” he asked, quite liking the feel of her hair brushing his chin. The soft curls piled on her head harbored an irresistible charm; she smelled like the air along a breezy bit of coastline, after the sun has set.
“It’s fat with cheese and amazingly good,” came Michelle’s soft answer. Chuckling, William picked up a tiny lasagna-looking hors d'oeuvre, chewing it whole.
“Mm,” he said, tempted to lick his fingers. “You're right. If I ate like this every day I’d end up looking like Winston Churchill.” Michelle laughed softly at the thought of William with a pot belly.
“He’d probably still look fantastic,”
she reasoned.
“I recall you once telling me that you knew how to cook,” William said. Michelle glanced up at him.
“A little,” she admitted. “Though not like this.” She waved at the dozens of finely decorated platters, heaped with food.
“I should hope not,” William pronounced. “As good as this is… I prefer the ‘enough is as good as a feast’ approach.” Michelle looked up at him with a smile.
“I agree,” she said, softly. “I’m glad we share at least that attribute.”
William smiled back at her.
“We’re more alike than you know, love,” he told her.
“I’d like to cook for you sometime,” Michelle said, trying to ignore the fluttery feelings William’s nearness invoked. He hugged her a little closer.
“Well, I know you make fantastic oatmeal,” he said, smelling her hair again.
“I could do this all day,”
he thought. The idea appealed.
“Who can’t make great oatmeal?” Michelle mused loud. William cleared his throat.
“Let’s not talk about that,” he said, sheepishly. “Would you like to dance?”
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Michelle nodded.
“I’d love to,” she said. “But, be warned; I took a little ballet… but I don’t know if I can even waltz properly.”
Disliking being left out of the conversation, Luca spoke up.
“I could teach you to dance, carina,” he said huskily. Michelle peered over her shoulder with what she hoped was an icy glare. It only made Luca wink at her. She stood up with a ‘huff’; her escort chuckled at her, standing up as well.
“Michelle’s a Gregory,” William said, speaking to Luca. “Scottish name. The women of Scotland are beautifully stubborn and only relent to gentlemen.” Not waiting for a reply, William led Michelle off. She looked up at him, impressed. “What?” William said, grinning down at her. “You’re not the only one who can dish out pithy remarks.” Michelle smiled back.
“I know that,” said she. “I’m just glad you’re on my side.” Chuckling, William led Michelle towards the dance floor. Music flowed beautifully over the room and guests... a sweet, slow waltz. Some of the couples moved as if they'd been born wearing dancing shoes.
“I’m really unfamiliar with all this, William,” Michelle said, apologetically. Turning her to him expertly, William gave his companion an encouraging smile.
“Not to worry, my dear,” he said. “I’d be honored to have you step on my toes.” He succeeded in getting a small laugh from Michelle.
“I’ll try to keep up,” she promised. The lovely music alone lifted Michelle’s spirits but having such a handsome, noble escort as William boosted her confidence exponentially.
To her credit, she did not mar his polished shoes. William led her skillfully around the room, making her look much more an accomplished dancer than she was. In spite of her dancing inexperience, he found Michelle a fluid partner. She soon she was able to follow his lead without awkwardness. Michelle gave him grateful smiles at every opportunity, especially when he deftly swirled her around.
“Did I tell you how insanely good you look in that blue shirt?” Michelle said leaning against his shoulder, when they were slow-dancing. She was not brave enough to compliment William while looking in his eyes.
“Why thank you,” William returned. “This is indeed my favorite ‘insanely-good’ shirt.” At this, Michelle wrinkled her nose; William glanced down at her face and chuckled. “You look so adorable like that,” he told her.
“Like what?” Michelle asked.
“An annoyed kitten,” William answered; he whirled her around again. Michelle could hear much affection present in his; the sound of it warmed her through, as if the dancing had not already.
Over Michelle’s shoulder, William spied a set of double-doors; they were slightly propped open. From prior visits here he knew they lead out into the back garden.
“Want to walk a bit, out back?” he suggested. “It’s a bit chilly but the garden really is nice, even at night.”
“I’d love to,” Michelle replied. “Some fresh air would be just perfect. It’s really warm in here.” Nodding in agreement, William maneuvered them around until they were able to slip outside. He closed the door behind them, hoping it would give people a hint.
The back ‘garden’ looked to be no less than ten acres wide to Michelle; it sprawled away into the darkness. Little path lights allowed guests to stroll as they wished. The lighting seemed purposely subtle, only enhanced by some tiny lights wound around overhead tree limbs. William and Michelle walked in the cold air, looking up at the twinkling stars.
“It is so lovely here,” Michelle said, softly. “Like some mythical palace.” As they walked the noise of the party faded behind them.
“Yes,” William greed. “I wouldn't want to see their electric bill, though.” He pointed ahead of them. A willow tree stood about forty feet away. Each of its drooping branches had been carefully wound with a string of tiny lights, making a large, private dome. “But it comes with an impromptu romantic hideaway.” Michelle laughed at his conspiratorial tone.
“Well, at least I know what you’re up to,” she said, smiling at him. William grinned back, walking forward by her side.
“You have no idea, love,”
he thought.
Reaching the willow, he drew back the curtain of lights, allowing Michelle to step inside. There was a semi-circle stone bench to sit on; Michelle turned, slowly, looking at the thousands of tiny lights in awe. If anything could inspire envy of Sophie’s home, this one little portion might.
“Enchanting,” she breathed. “Now this is really inspiring.”
“I couldn’t agree more, love,” William said, looking at Michelle. The dim light made her look like a fine, marble statue magically come to life; her skin looked so tempting he had to swallow some excess saliva. OK, it was drool.
“
Most undignified...”
William thought, suddenly not caring if it was. Michelle was admiring the lights, moving close to the tree trunk. Touching its gnarled surface lightly with her fingertips, she smiled up, observing the way the branches sprouted out and flowed down like green, leafy water.
“You’re stunning, Michelle,” William said, leaning one arm on the trunk above her; he looked down at the pretty young woman he’d come to think so highly of. Michelle turned to face him; his nearness caused a blush that was visible even in such low light. He was so close she could feel warmth radiating off him on her neck and face, and most of her chest, she noted. William’s face was well lit; Michelle thought she saw a sort of growing excitement in his eyes. She bit her lip.
“Oh, don’t do that, love,” William said, gently. He placed a fingertip on her bottom lip. “When you bite your lip it makes me want to as well.”
Michelle opened her mouth in surprise; William took the opportunity to kiss her. The tree provided good support. Michelle didn’t resist him; he tasted better than any food. There was something about William she craved, like she had been missing him all her life and never knew it until now. She held tightly onto his shoulders, thinking how sweet the moment seemed.
William broke the kiss far too soon, in Michelle’s opinion. He leaned his forehead on hers and took a very deep breath.
“I want you to marry me,” he said. The words hung static in the air. Michelle’s eyes flew open; she stared up at William with her mouth slightly agape. William grinned. “Shocked?” he said, touching Michelle’s face tenderly. “I was going for ‘ecstatic’.” Michelle couldn’t speak. Again, William chuckled. “Surely you can tell how much I care for you, love. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again. I know it’s just been a few weeks but...”
“Yes,” Michelle said, quietly interrupting William’s ramble.
Sucking a short breath, he looked down into her eyes; they looked misty and beautifully bright. “Yes, absolutely,” his lady continued. The smile on her face seemed different than all her previous expressions; she looked both happy and relieved.
“Her smile could light a thousand dim rooms.”
William thought, a wave of exhilaration washing through him. “Are you sure?” he asked, with a half-smile. “I can be a bit of a pain, you know. Sometimes a little stubborn and picky...”
Michelle stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, effectively stopping William’s self-depreciating tirade.
“You were made for me,” she whispered; they were the gentlest words William had ever heard. She looked into his eyes with such an earnest gaze William’s lingering doubts evaporated. “I'm certain of it,” she continued. “I don’t just feel it, I know it.”
“Grow old with me,” William said, getting down on one knee. Michelle hand went to her mouth; she was dangerously close to crying. William reached into his pocket. “Be my companion, Michelle Gregory.”
Tears slipped out; smiling through them, Michelle surprised William by kneeling down with him, regardless of her dress.
“Please don’t ever kneel to me, William,” she said, her face glistening with tears. “I’ll never make you do that, not ever.”
“Darling,” William whispered back, hugging Michelle close to him; he sat back and slid her onto his lap. “I will love spending each and every day of my life with you.”
“This may sound silly but… will you give me babies?” Michelle said her voice barely above a whisper and peppered with sniffles. William chuckled, trying to relax the lump in his own throat.
“Definitely,” he whispered, kissing her neck softly. “You have no idea how much pleasure I will take in giving you babies.” His voice almost vibrated with passion. Michelle let her tears flow unchecked.
“Thank you,” she mumbled into William’s shoulder.
After a few moments William turned her to face him a little better; taking out his handkerchief, he wiped her tears away, unable to resist kissing her face as he did so.
“Michelle, you are so lovely,” he said. “But… more importantly, your soul matches your beauty in every respect.” Smiling, Michelle allowed herself a small laugh.
“So does yours,” she said, letting out a sigh. “How else could you want to marry an unemployed street artist from middle-class Suburbia?”
William made a face.
“As if that could really describe you,” he told her. Bringing out the little box from his pocket, he opened it and drew out the sparkling ring. It glittered brilliantly; even the dim, tiny tree lights did it justice. Michelle looked stunned. She stared up at William.
“You planned this,” she stated softly, as if she didn’t really believe it. William grinned, his confidence returning in droves.
“That’s the general idea,” he told her.
Taking Michelle’s left hand into his, he slid the ring onto her slender finger. It was a trifle big, but not by much. William made a mental note to take her by the store on their return and have it re-sized. Michelle stared at the ring in disbelief.
“It’s beautiful... and enormous,” she said, looking back up at William’s face. “It says 'please mug me, I’m married to a tycoon'.” William laughed.
“Silly girl, it’s only two carats,” he said, smiling.
“Wow,” Michelle breathed, looking back down. “Here I thought I was lucky to happen to attract the handsomest man in New York, who happens to have solid gold character and makes me feel...” She stopped herself, blushing. William lifted an eyebrow.
“Please go on,” he said, smiling suggestively.