Chapter 15
Jack’s heart beat far too fast. She was going to leave.
She was going to leave.
He could not say he was surprised. Nor could he object. She belonged in France, if that was what she wanted. She belonged with family.
But, if she wanted, she could also belong with him. With his family. It could betheirfamily. If she wanted.
He had broken the subject badly. Lucien had presented a shining alternative before Jack could even present his case.Hewas the one who had provided the le Duc family the coin they needed to leave forever. He wasnotgoing to be the fool who let Désirée walk away for good without using his last chance to say what was in his heart.
Because he had said he would do so, Jack turned to Lucien first.
“Before anyone packs valises,” Jack said softly. “I am officially asking permission to court your sister.”
“Tomarryher?” Bastien’s horse skittered backward.
Lucien’s stallion did not move a muscle. “No.”
So much for the formalities. Jack threw pride to the wind. Let her brothers listen.
He turned to Désirée. “I should have told you how I feel long before this moment.”
“I said no,” Lucien snarled.
“She’s twenty-seven and knows her own mind,” Jack replied without taking his gaze off Désirée. “I asked your permission to be polite. Hers is the only opinion that matters.”
She held her reins tight in her lap but did not speak.
He pushed on. “I love you.”
Her expression of surprise indicated he had not made this factor nearly clear enough.
“I love you,” he said again, louder this time. “I love your curiosity and your ‘remèdes.’ I love how splendid you are with my children. I love your willingness to help everyone, be it broken axles or finding replacement governesses. I love how you trundle hoops and how you throw knives—”
“What?” Lucien interrupted.
“—and I love how you’re always trying to make yourself better for everyone around you.” He took in a breath. “But you don’t have to. You’re perfect just as you are. You don’t need to practice French recipes to prove you’re French. YouareFrench.”
“Of course she’s French,” Bastien muttered. “Nobody doubted she was French.”
“—and you don’t need to memorize English Christmas carols to prove you’re English. YouareEnglish.”
“She’s definitely not English,” Lucien said.
Désirée frowned. “You just said I was French.”
“That’s the magical part.” He tried to make her see. “Nobody says you have to pick one.”
“Literally everyone says that,” Bastien put in.
Lucien nodded. “Whole wars have been fought over it.”
“Bah.” Jack waved a hand. “Somepeople might not be clever enough or open hearted enough to be the best of both places, but you aren’t ‘some people.’ You’re the sweetest, bravest, kindest, most off-key soprano I know.” He gazed into her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anyone else.”
She stared back at him.
“I can’t promise you forever,” he said softly. “I learned the hard way that ‘until death do we part’ sometimes comes much sooner than expected. I grieved for years, too scared of another loss to risk putting my heart and my children through pain like that all over again. I wanted to shield them. To keep them safe. I was wrong.”
Her brow furrowed. “Wrong?”
“Running away is the right answer when you’re facing cannon fire or giant wasps. It’s the wrong answer if you’re running away from love.Youare worth it. My children are worth it.Iam worth it.” He reached out his hand. “Marry me.”
