She laughed unexpectedly again and looked back at him. “I do notknowwhat I want,” she said. “I have no preconceived notion of what being married to you would be like. I am certainly not being blinded by romance. I can only feel that this is what I ought to do and what I want to do if I am given the opportunity. And it would seem that I am being given it.”
I think I would miss you after you were gone. I think I would be unhappy.But shehadalso said her heart was not involved.
“I have killed many men, Miss Westcott,” he said.
“Yes.” She sighed. “I know. But you also saved an ugly puppy from starvation and allowed Robbie to spend hours with the dog in your room, your own private space, because you felt his need. You have been kind to Harry. I will not allow you always to see yourself in the darkest possible light.”
“As a guttersnipe?” he said.
“Yes, that too,” she said. “You didnotgrow up in the gutter. Your mother housed you and fed and clothed you. But even if you had, your basic human dignity would not be the less. Why should a king be of more value as a human being than a vagabond?”
“Those are revolutionary words,” he said, “for a lady who grew up among the aristocracy.”
“They are truths I have learned, or, rather, worked out for myself, during the past six years,” she said.
He turned and set his cup, the coffee untouched, on the sideboard behind him. He folded his arms over his chest.
“Would you wish me to ride to London to speak with your mother and stepfather, then?” he asked.
“Oh no,” she said sharply, her eyes widening. “No. You would find yourself surrounded by the whole Westcott family in no time at all, Lieutenant Colonel Bennington. They thrive upon crises.”
“Gil,” he said. “It is my name. Short for Gilbert, which I have never liked.” Their marrying would be a family crisis, then, would it? But of course it would. For whether she liked the word or not, he would always be a guttersnipe.
“Gil,” she said.
“Do you prefer Abigail or Abby?” he asked.
“Those close to me call me Abby,” she told him.
“And am I to be close to you?” he asked.
“Yes.” She frowned.
“Abby, then,” he said. “You do not wish me to speak to anyone at all?”
“It is Harry rather than Marcel who is head of my particular family,” she said. “Marcel has been very kind to me, but I never think of him as my stepfather and he has never called himself that or tried to exert any sort of fatherly authority over me. I do not need anyone’s consent, of course. I am three years past my majority.”
“I will, nevertheless, speak formally with Harry,” he said.
“Is it real, then?” she asked meeting his eyes.
“I believe it is,” he said, holding her gaze. “Abby, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, and without her looking away, her teeth sank into her lower lip.
He wondered what the devil he was doing—or, rather, what he had done. Was this all about Katy? It felt like more than that.
“How do you wish to proceed, then?” he asked. “With a planned wedding—with guests? Or with a quiet one by special license?”
“The wedding guests would all be my family and neighbors,” she said. “It would not seem right. Besides, such a wedding would take time to plan. You do not have time to spare, do you? You need to be married as soon as possible.”
Wasit all about Katy, then? She had said that for her it was not. But for him? Did he have any feelings for Abby Westcott? Any expectation of being able to make her happy? He would be presenting her—he hoped—with a ready-made child. That was not necessarily a good thing for her. Was it? Another woman’s child? But clearly she knew what she was getting into on that score.
“I shall go up to London for a license, then,” he said. “Today. I ought to be back by tomorrow night or the dayafter tomorrow at the latest. I will have a word with the vicar before I go.”
“Oh,” she said. “Itisreal, then.”
“Abby.” He strode across to her side of the table and set one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the table beside her empty plate. “It is not too late now to change your mind. It will not be too late when I return. It will be too late only after the nuptial service and the signing of the register.”
