On the 11th Day of Christmas... Paul Proposed a Marriage

"Jane," he almost reached for her hand, then constrained himself, grasping his hands together in his lap, "Jane, what about this, what if I were to ask you to marry me?"

The fire crackled. She seemed to be holding her breath while she stared at him.

Yes, she was. It escaped with a whoosh. "If you were to ask me? Is that what you're doing?"

He couldn't tell if she sounded more shocked, put out, or simply perplexed. Now he did take her hand. She let him, but it lay limp in his.

"I'm just trying to help you. If I married you, no one would think poorly of you staying."

"Such charity."

"Not necessarily."

Her eyes widened. "I don't love you."

He was unprepared for the sting of her words. "No...no, of course you don't. I'm not expecting that you do."

She frowned and pulled her hand away. Her eyes glinted suspiciously. "What is it that you do expect?"

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