“I had to tie Millicent up and put her in the closet to keep her away from here.”
Marcus’s head jerked up. “You did not.”
“Truthfully, I just sent her on a wild-goose chase. Said I’d seen the two of you down by the shore.” He shot Marcus a telling glance. “It won’t be long before she shows up here.”
“Keep her away. I promised Cecelia one day.” He riffled through the basket, pulling out cheese and meat and some warm shepherd’s pie. “Who baked?”
“I stole it from Millicent’s house,” the gnome said with a shrug. “She won’t mind once she realizes it’s for her girl. She’ll get over the fact that you’ll be partaking of it, too.” He snickered.
“What were you doing at Milly’s house?” Marcus asked.
“Stealing shepherd’s pie,” Ronald said crisply.
“And?” Marcus smiled. The thought of a romance between Milly and Ronald made him want to laugh out loud. Those two had been at one another’s throats for years and years.
“And it’s none of your concern,” Ronald growled. “Who knows? We might plant a seed in the ground and see if we can grow any little garden gnomes.”
The idea whirled like a tornado in Marcus’s head. “That’s how…” At Ronald’s scorching glance, he didn’t finish his thought. But he still wondered. “How long have you known Milly?”
“Forever,” Ronald said, tossing his apple core into the rubbish bin.
“And you two have never…” He let his thought trail off again.
“Again, mind your own matters,” Ronald chided.
“And you should do the same.” Ronald knew what they’d been doing. He probably knew that Cecelia was naked in Marcus’s bed right now.
“Milly and I married centuries ago,” Ronald said quietly. “She’s mine. I’m hers. End of story.”
Married? They were married. “What?” Marcus gasped out.
The gnome shrugged. “I love her. She loves me, most of the time. We each have obligations. We see one another as time permits. The life of a gnome is a solitary existence. But we make do.”
“But you rarely get to see her.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that,” the gnome said. He started to sift through the basket, looking for more to eat. Marcus jerked it from his reach.
“But Milly hates you,” Marcus wondered aloud.
“Hello Pot. My name is Kettle,” Ronald said drolly. Then he sobered. “So, Cecelia must not hate you anymore.”
“Not right this moment,” Marcus said, tensing at the thought of Cecelia ever hating him.
“She came right out with it and told you she loves you.” Ronald narrowed his eyes at Marcus.
“Not yet.” She hadn’t. He’d said it multiple times that day, but she hadn’t said it yet. But she would. She couldn’t avoid it. “She asked me not to ask her for anything today.”
“T
hat makes a lot of sense, seeing how much you love her.” Ronald snorted. Marcus really loved the little garden gnome at times. And really despised him at others.
“She’s had a tough go of it,” Marcus said. “She asked me for one day. Then we’ll marry and set things to rights.”
“She said she’ll marry you?”
“Not in so many words.” She had never really agreed, had she? She hadn’t.
“I think that she had her way with you, and now she’ll dispense with you and go back to her sorry life.” Ronald hitched up his breeches and glared at Marcus.