She gasped again, and tears sprang to her eyes.
“I want to marry you,” Lucas said.
“Why? There are plenty of women like me in London.” She didn’t know why she kept offering resistance to everything he said, but she sensed she must. If she was to ever feel secure with him, she must know she stood on solid ground from the start. There must be no doubts lingering between them. “All you have to do is leave Mayfair, or look in your scullery for that matter.”
“There is no one else likeyou.”
And now they’d arrived at yet another obstacle. “I don’t know how to be a duchess,” she confessed.
He reached out and took her hand in his large, calloused one. It held warmth and assurance and left no doubt. This duke… thisman… would be hers if she let him.
“That’s the beauty of being a duchess,” he said. “However you are is how you’re supposed to be. You’re the duchess.”
And yet one obstacle could remain. “Your family…” She’d sensed how close they were at tonight’s meal.
“They like you,” he said. “And they already know you.”
“As someone they see as a servant.” It had to be said.
“They see a talented woman who has made her way in the world with humor and grace. My mother will happily teach you everything you need to know,” he added with a smile. “To be able to mold a duchess in her own likeness will bring no small amount of joy into her dowager years.”
A chirrup of laughter escaped Nell as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Lucas dropped to his knees.
“What are you on about?” she asked, crying, laughing.
“Miss Elinor Tait,” he said, solemn, sincere. “Everything your heart desires, you shall have.”
“Come up off your knees,” she said, feeling strangely exposed. No man had ever gotten onto his knees for her. She’d never been that special. But, tonight, this man thought she was.
And she understood.
He loved her for who she was, at her essence.
And she loved him for who he was, at his essence.
That was why what they had was true, and ever would be.
It was that simple.
“I only want you,” she said.
He shook his head. “A thatched-roof cottage… a tribe of children… soft green grass beneath your bare feet—all of that shall be yours. No one will make false promises to you ever again. Not while I draw breath.”
The hand not holding hers dug into a pocket and emerged holding a ring between forefinger and thumb. “Over the course of our life together, I shall give you many jewels, some more ostentatious than you would prefer, but tonight I give you this simple gold band as a promise that what exists between you and me—Nell and Lucas… man and woman—is eternal.”
“Oh, what words you speak,” fell from her mouth as she felt herself swept up into another whirlwind. She suspected her life with this man would ever feel so.
“Will you be mine?”
“Forever,” she whispered, unable to speak properly around the lump in her throat.
He slipped the band onto her fourth finger and tugged her forward. She surrendered into his embrace, her knees giving way as she landed on his thigh. Into the few inches separating their mouths, she said, awestruck, “We’ve only known each other three days.”
He cupped the nape of her neck. “Three days, three weeks, three months, three years… That’s not important. I’d known you not three seconds when Iknew—” He pressed his palm to her chest. “Here.” He angled his face and drew in. “I love you, my sweet Nell,” he spoke against her mouth.
And there was no hesitation when she said, “I love you, my duke, my man,” for the words flowed straight from her heart.
