She let out a sound that was almost a laugh. “You are merciless.”
“I am thorough,” he corrected.
She hesitated, then lifted her chin. “No, it was not a moment of weakness. It has been building for weeks. Since the first night you let me choose whether to stay or not. Since the first time you touched me as if my pleasure mattered. Since the night you told me about the snow and Virgil. I tried to stop it. I thought I had. Last night proved I had not.”
He stepped nearer until only an inch remained between them. “Say it, Gwen.”
She met his gaze without flinching. “I love you,” she breathed.
The words sent warmth through him.
“I accept your proposal,” she added, her voice steadier. “Not because Howard wishes it. Not because of the scandal. But because of you. If you are truly asking as a man who loves me, and not as a duke fulfilling a duty, then yes, I will marry you.”
Relief washed over him so suddenly that he had to brace one hand against the edge of the desk.
“I am asking as both,” he said honestly. “As a man who loves you and as a duke who recognizes that his life will be poorer and his house colder if you are not in them.”
She laughed then, a small, watery sound. “You have a talent for romantic speeches you pretend not to possess.”
“Do not tell anyone,” he murmured. “It would ruin my reputation for tedium.”
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
He caught her wrist gently. “May I kiss you?”
Her lips curved. “The door is open.”
“To hell with that,” Victor said softly.
Gwen’s eyes danced, and laughter spilled out of her as she nodded her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
He bent and kissed her.
It was not the hungry, frantic joining of their previous encounters. It was slow, sure, filled with the knowledge that something had shifted permanently. Her hands came up to rest against his chest, not to push him away, but to draw him closer. He felt the soft press of her mouth, the familiar taste of her, the way she sighed into him as if releasing the last of her doubts.
For a moment, the study, the open door, the threat of Howard’s return, all vanished. There was only the woman he loved and the realization that he had stepped into a future he had never dared imagine.
When they parted, she looked a little dazed, a little radiant.
“You know this will be difficult,” she warned quietly. “Howard will not give up control easily. The ton will talk. Your mother will be displeased.”
“Mother has already informed me that my choices are none of her business,” he said. “As for the rest, let them talk. They have always talked. We might as well give them something worth the effort.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “You are very arrogant.”
“I am in love,” he corrected. “It feels similar.”
Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Howard’s voice barked her name.
Gwen straightened, smoothing her gown, composure sliding over her features like a veil. Whatever storm waited on the other side of the door, they would face it together now.
Victor smiled to himself and reached into his coat pocket, closing his hand around the ring.
EPILOGUE
The church bells had never sounded so bright.
They poured peals of sound across the square, over the neat line of carriages, over the onlookers craning their necks for a glimpse of the new Duchess of Greystone.
