“Of course,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What else? Do you think I would spend hours gardening for just anyone? It might not be the most conventional way to court a woman, but I hoped it would help me capture your heart.”
“Capture my heart? Are you mad?” As if it wasn’t bad enough that Darcy and Lizzy pitied me. “I am not your charity case.”
His eyes sparked, and his smile was slow. “Taking you to wife would most definitely have nothing to do with charity.”
Heat flushed through my body. I backed up against the kitchen table. “I do not understand.”
“I have admired you since I was eleven. At thirteen, I was heartbroken when Wickham stole you away before we came of age, depriving me of the chance to win your heart.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Thirteen-year-olds know nothing of matters of the heart. I thought I loved Wickham, and it ruined my life.”
“You may have noticed that I am no longer thirteen.” His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through me. “I am a grown man who knows what he wants with complete certainty. When we became reacquainted after all these years, I realized I still find youas appealing as ever. Perhaps even more so. And our time together in the garden has only served to deepen my feelings.”
“But,” I spluttered, “a vicar cannot marry a woman like me!”
He stepped closer. “Whyever not?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I am not respectable. You need to wed a young lady with an unblemished reputation.”
“I have had such opportunities. Squire Worsley once hoped I’d wed his daughter.”
Jealousy, hot and potent, slashed through me. “Miss Worsley is an only child. She stands to inherit everything.”
“The only woman who interests me is standing right here.”
His ardent manner flustered, and flattered, me. “But we are barely acquainted.”
“I know you well enough.”
“Perhaps working in the sun these last few days has affected your judgment.”
He smiled. “You have been in my thoughts since the day we met again. Why do you think I returned your basket the other day?”
“Because you wanted me to refill it?”
“No. I knew you were entertaining a potential suitor. I lost my chance once before when Wickham came between us. I refuse to lose my opportunity again by allowing another man to steal you away before I declare myself.”
It took me a moment to digest his words. “Have you been drinking, Vicar?”
He laughed. “My name is Michael, and no, I have not imbibed spirits of any kind.”
The intensity of his gaze threatened to blaze a path straight to my heart. I looked away. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you will at least consider my offer.”
“I vowed never to remarry.”
“Why?”
“Because Wickham was a terrible husband. He was a gambler and a philanderer. He was never home.”
“I am neither a gamer nor a cheater. When not busy with church business, I will be home.”
He stepped close enough that the lemony scent of his shaving soap filled my nostrils. My knees lost their strength. What was happening to me? I settled my hips against the kitchen table.
“I would treat you with the kindness, care, and respect you deserve,” he said. “I have long admired you. I believe that I might already love you. Most fervently.”
“Stop saying such impossible things!”
