The Spellbook of Katrina Van Tassel by Alyssa Palombo

Author:Alyssa Palombo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

30

The Proposal

The brandy was flowing well, and guests were beginning to take their leave. I had thought the evening interminably long, yet now that our moment was here it felt as if it had arrived all too suddenly.

I moved to Ichabod’s side in the parlor. “I must speak with you,” I said in a low voice. “In private. Before you speak to my father.”

Glancing around to see if anyone would notice, Ichabod nodded once, then left the room. I left a moment later, following him to the music room.

I closed the door behind us. “I … there is something you need to know,” I said hurriedly. I had only just decided on this course of action, and now that I had embarked upon it, I could not go back. “I … I am with child.”

Ichabod staggered back, as though physically struck. He stared at me in disbelief, the blood draining from his face. “You…”

“Of course I … did not mean for this to happen,” I said, suddenly unable to look at him. “I had been trying to prevent it. But … anyway, it doesn’t matter now. No matter what happens tonight … you needed to know.”

A hesitant smile broke out on his face. “I will admit the timing is not opportune,” he said. “And I would have preferred our first child be conceived in the marriage bed. But…” He trailed off and kissed me, deeply. “It is wonderful news all the same.” He tried to smile again as we broke apart, but looked only nervous.

I could hardly blame him.

“Very well,” I said. “I suppose the time has come, then.”

“I suppose it has,” he said. “All too soon and not soon enough.”

After one last kiss, I turned and left the music room, returning to the parlor. Ichabod appeared soon after, strolling casually to my side.

“Now,” I murmured to him, watching as my father bade farewell to Master Stanwyck.

Squeezing my hand once, swiftly, he crossed the room to my father. “Master Van Tassel,” he intoned, somewhat formally.

My father spun around. “Ah, Mr. Crane!” he cried jovially. “A delight to see you, sir, an absolute delight. I hope you have enjoyed the party?”

“Very much, sir,” Ichabod said, still sounding a bit stiff. “Your generosity truly knows no bounds.”

“Not at all, my dear boy, not at all,” my father said, clapping him on the back.

Ichabod spoke again, hurriedly. “I wondered if I might have a private word with you, sir.”

My father looked somewhat startled, but recovered quickly. “But of course,” he said. “Here, take a glass of brandy”—he motioned for Cook, who was nearby, to pour Ichabod a glass—“and come with me into my study.”

Ichabod took the proffered glass and followed my father out of the room.

I felt like I might faint as I watched them go.

Charlotte materialized at my side. “Is it time already?” she whispered.

I nodded, reaching down and clutching Charlotte’s hand in mine. “Oh, Charlotte,” were the only words I could muster.

“Never fear,” she assured me. “Do not worry. All will be well, I am sure of it.

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