The Importance of Being Alice (18 page)

“Hmm?”

I repeated his statement from the night before.

“Oh, that. No, I meant the fact that I've fallen in love with you after having known you for less than a week is in itself a remark on how much you've changed me. I've never been a fall-in-love-at-first-sight sort of person. The fact that I have done so despite my nature and what most people would consider common sense is proof that we are meant to be together.”

“Common sense?” I glared at him. “Did you just do a Mr. Darcy insult?”

“What the hell is a Mr. Darcy insult?”

“You know, asking Elizabeth Bennet to marry him despite his own better judgment and the wishes of his friends and family. Because if you did, you had better practice your groveling apology.”

He looked so confused that I turned off the hair dryer. “What most people would consider common sense?” I reminded him.

“Ah. No, that wasn't an insult, Mr. Darcy or otherwise. You yourself acknowledge that we fell into this relationship quickly—common sense would dictate that to do so would be a recipe for disaster.”

“And you think we'll avoid that?”

“Yes, I do.” He put away his shaving things, splashed some of the woodsy aftershave on his cheeks, and then realized I was staring. “You've changed me in a fundamental manner, Alice. That, to me, says that our emotions are not of the transitory nature, and although I'm aware we
are both going into this with only limited knowledge of each other's foibles and habits, I am confident that we will be able to work out any issues, and have a long and happy life together. I wouldn't have asked you to spend your life with me if I thought otherwise.”

I leaned across the sink to kiss him. “That has to be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He leered. “I have quite a few other things I could say, but they would result in us returning to the bed that we just left, and since you are insisting on visiting Würzburg and the Bishops' Residenz, I shall forgo further commentary until a more appropriate time.”

“Hey, it's an honest-to-Pete baroque palace. Of course I want to see it. I mean, how often do you have a chance to do that? Is Gunner going to be joining us?”

“He asked to, but if you'd prefer that he not, I can tell him to take himself elsewhere.”

“No, I don't mind having him with us. He's nice, and he's going to be family, and since he's waiting for the all clear to do his covert activities . . .” I let the sentence go, hoping Elliott would fill me in on just what exactly Gunner was doing, but damn his circumspect self, he simply said something noncommittal and sat down at the laptop to check his e-mail.

Gunner was waiting for us when we left the ship. Unfortunately, so was Patrick . . . and Deidre.

Laura hurried across the gangplank as we greeted Elliott's brother.

“I'm so sorry,” she said in a rush to me, gesturing toward Deidre. “That's your ex, isn't it? He tried to get on board the ship last night, but Tiffany ran him off, unfortunately
after
he had time to chat with Deidre. We were supposed to be taking the optional Romantic Road tour,
but once Deidre chatted up your ex, she changed her mind, so here we are.” She made an apologetic gesture.

“I should have known that my two most favorite people would manage to band together in their attempt to be annoying,” I told her in soft sarcasm before introducing her to Gunner. “This is Elliott's brother. You know, the one I told you about.”

She blinked, holding out a hand, which he took. “I hope Alice had only nice things to say about me. I'm a wonderful person, really. Charming, some might also say charismatic, intelligent—”

“Modest,” Elliott said, taking my hand, and leading me down yet another cobblestone street to where the bus to the palace waited.

“I hope you don't mind that your boyfriend and I tag along, dear,” Deidre said, falling into step next to me. “We met last night, and dear Patrick's plight plucked at my heartstrings. How you can resist such a handsome, erudite man is beyond me.”

“Just wait till you get to know him,” I said, shooting Patrick a look filled with ire. He blew me a kiss. “Then you'll understand.”

Tiffany was waiting for us at the bus. The Japanese group was already on board, but I noticed that Anthony and Dahl were not.

“They went on to Rothenburg,” Tiffany answered when I asked about them. “Something about there being more tourists to chat with.” She then turned to Patrick and said, “Sir, I believe you are on the wrong bus. This vehicle is for the Manny van Bris tours only. You'll find public transportation across the square.”

“Oh, he's all right,” Deidre said, pulling Patrick past
Tiffany, who had blocked the aisle. “He's Alice's boyfriend.”

“No, he's not,” I said, and took a seat toward the back. Elliott sat next to me.

“I used t'be,” Patrick objected.

“Used to isn't worth squat. Feel free to kick him off, Tiffany. He has nothing to do with me.”

“I like that! If it wasn't for me, you'd never have met Elliott!”

“And just who are
you
?” Tiffany had turned when Gunner entered the bus.

He smiled and offered her a couple of twenty-euro notes. “I believe my brother asked if I could accompany you? He said this should cover the costs of my inclusion in the tour.”

“Oh, yes, that's all right,” Tiffany said with a sniff. She took the money and stuffed it into a pocket before turning back to Patrick. “I'm sorry, sir, but you will have to leave.”

“He gets to go,” Patrick said, pointing to Gunner, who had taken a seat across from us. “Why can't I?”

“Mr. Ainslie made arrangements for the inclusion of his brother last night. No such arrangements were made for you, sir.”

Patrick whipped out his wallet and dangled a few notes in front of her. “I'm sure that was just an oversight on Alice's part.”

“It's nothing to do with me,” I said loudly, making shooing gestures. “Boot him off the bus!”

“Deidre, then,” Patrick said, pulling out another wad of money.

Tiffany looked annoyed, but she jerked the money
from his fingers with a terse, “Very well, just this once I will make an allowance, but you must not bother any of the rightful passengers. Take your seats, please. We will commence our tour to the famed ornate Bishops' Residenz, which you must know is one of Germany's biggest palaces, and is in fact a UNESCO World Heritage site.”

“You think we can break away from the others and see the palace on our own?” I asked Elliott while Tiffany droned on tossing out dry facts and figures.

“We can certainly try. I'd like to get Gunner alone so we can tell him our news.”

“Really?”

Elliott looked surprised at my question. “Did you think I wasn't going to mention it to him?”

“Well . . .” I made a noncommittal gesture. “Kind of. I thought maybe you would give it a bit of time before you mentioned it to your family, since we haven't known each other for long.”

“As I told you earlier, the very fact that I feel so strongly about you should alert my family that something extraordinary has happened.” He took my hand, giving it a little squeeze that warmed me through and through. “Are you worried that you won't receive a welcome reception from them?”

“Honestly?” I thought about it for a moment. “No. But I think we may both be in for a little ribbing.”

“Ribbing I can take,” he said, nodding when Tiffany pointed at something out the window. “But you should have no fear that our marriage will meet with any objection. My mother will be thrilled beyond words.”

That I would wait to see, but I didn't voice that opinion to Elliott.

The rest of the trip out to the palace was spent
listening to Tiffany. We did manage to lose her once we had toured the (huge and incredibly ornate) palace, and were released to wander around on our own. Elliott, Gunner, and I made a beeline for the gardens, handily ditching the others so that we could have a little privacy.

“This place is so incredible,” I said, snapping a picture of a particularly lovely fountain. “It's like a dream, it's so perfect. I can almost picture a carriage rolling up the drive, and a woman in a long, flowing dress running out to greet her returning lord.”

“You have quite the imagination, don't you?” Gunner asked with a smile.

“Yes, but even you have to admit that this place is the epitome of romance.” I gestured toward the massive structure behind us. “I'm surprised they haven't made a bunch of period movies here.”

“Speaking of romance,” Elliott said, taking my hand. “We have something to tell you.”

“Oh?” Gunner looked up from where he was fiddling with his camera. His eyes widened. “You don't mean—”

“Yes. Actually, yes and more. I've asked Alice to marry me. She said yes.”

“Marry you?” Now Gunner looked dumbfounded. Thankfully, that changed almost immediately to delight. “You're not joking, are you? What am I saying? You never joke around like that. You're really engaged?”

“Yes,” I said, then laughed when he whooped and crushed me in a bear hug. “I'm glad that you, at least, aren't going to flip us any crap about getting together so quickly.”

“Oh, I'm going to rag Elliott for years about that, but it doesn't mean I'm not delighted.” He hugged Elliott, who socked him on the shoulder. “Fancy you two finding
each other like this. It's definitely like something out of one of El's books.”

“Hardly,” Elliott said with a wry twist to his mouth. “Not unless Alice turns out to be a secret agent, and shoots us both to escape with a bag full of priceless jewels. Or cocaine. Or, for that matter, illegal arms.”

“I promise I won't do any of that.” I kissed Elliott on his nose, so happy I felt as if I could burst.

“You have to let me marry you,” Gunner said suddenly, an expression of joy on his face. “Please, El, you know I've always wanted to marry someone ever since I was ordained.”

I gawked at him. “You're a minister?”

“No, he's not,” Elliott said with a long-suffering look.

“Don't listen to him, he's a nonbeliever. I'm duly ordained by the Church of Jante.”

“The who now?”

“It's an Internet religion,” Elliott said, tugging me away, his fingers laced through mine as we strolled through the impressive gardens. “It's not real, and he can't marry people.”

“Of course I can, although you are recommended to follow up with a civil ceremony, just in case the government refuses to recognize my authority. I could officiate at your wedding ceremony, and then you can slip out to the registrar's office afterward and take care of any remaining legalities.”

“That's actually a very cool idea,” I said, thinking that there was no better way to be welcomed into Elliott's family than to have his brother marry us. “We could have the ceremony at your castle!”

“That is not at all a good idea,” Elliott said over the top of Gunner's enthusiastic agreement.

“Why not?”

“Because the Ainslie Castle is in the middle of being restored. One entire wing is off-limits since parts of it have crumbled, and the rest of it is receiving much-needed structural work to keep it from falling down. We could hardly host the sort of ceremony you're thinking of. A visit to the registrar's office sounds appropriate, though. We'll have to review the laws regarding an American-English marriage once we get home.”

My joy dimmed somewhat. “But your castle would be so romantic. I can't imagine a woman alive who wouldn't want to be married there.”

“It's just not viable, Alice. I'm sorry. If you like, we can look for some other stately home venue in which to hold the wedding, although I hesitate to point out that such places tend to be rather expensive. . . .”

“I have it!” Gunner said with a snap of his fingers. “We'll marry you here.”

“Here in Germany? Wouldn't it be harder, legally speaking, for an American and an Englishman to marry here than it would in England, where at least one of us is a citizen?”

“Nonsense. I've seen the marriage application form that churchofjante.com states must be filled out in order to have a marriage officiated, and there is no occupancy requirement. Citizenship, yes, but you don't need to live in the location where I marry you.” He waved an arm encompassing all of the grounds. “You wanted a castle for your wedding backdrop—how about one of the grandest examples in all of Europe?”

“Your Internet ordination is hardly going to be viewed by the Germans as legal—,” Elliott started to protest.

“No more so than in England, I agree, and more fools
they are.” He whomped his brother on the arm. “That's why you follow up with a civil ceremony when you get home. And bonus for your thrifty ways: you could take the rest of the tour as your honeymoon. There's, what, a week left?”

“Oooh,” I said, starting to like this idea more and more. “That would be awesome. Some people might think it's a bit odd having the honeymoon before the legal ceremony, but I've never been overly concerned about things like that. How about it, Elliott? Do you want to marry me in one of the most romantic spots on earth?”

Elliott was at a loss for words, and I realized that he was truly flabbergasted by the idea.

“OK, time-out,” I told Gunner, taking Elliott by the hand and heading for a small group of topiaries. “I think I need to speak to the groom alone.”

“You do that,” Gunner said, nodding. “I'll run up to the castle office and see if I can print out a copy of the marriage application. I'll need you to fill that out before I can marry you. This is going to be excellent, most excellent!”

I waited until we were out of earshot of the other tourists before I turned to Elliott and said, “The whole idea of a marriage here has you freaked out, hasn't it?”