â
â : Holding hands
She knew that he wasnât supposed to...for multiple reasons. Not the least of which was that he was engaged but also that she was still a witch and she wasnât sure that his family was watching. Certainly no one wanted him with a french witch that he had rescued from the British, even if witches were more acceptable here then they had been back on the main land. Â
Still when they were alone, waiting in the gardens by themselves her thin fingers slipped through his out of instinct, though his own digits were hardly the only part on him she wanted to touch. She wanted to slip them through the soft curls on the back of his neck, weave them through the thick cloth at his chest again...Â
It was hard not to think about it when she was such a creature of physical touch anyway. It was like telling a bird not to fly when it could see the sky. Â
âYou should be careful...â She warned him quietly.  âSomeone will see...someone will know.â What would they really know though besides that he had been bewitched?




















