“Certainly, we are married,” Gabriel insisted.
“The marriage isn’t valid,” Birdie muttered afterwards. She clasped her hands together tightly.
“No doubt you will decide in your own time whether you are indeed married, or not,” Ashmore said, with twitching lips.
“Excuse me. But who are you?” Gabriel looked at him, pulling together his brows. The butler had announced him, but none of the present people had introduced themselves so far.
“Oh, stop teasing the poor man, Henry,” Lucy chastised her husband. She turned to Gabriel with a smile. “This is my husband, the Duke of Ashmore. Never mind him. His bark is worse than his bite. I am Lucy, Birdie’s dear friend. I am pleased to meet you, despite your unfortunate tendency to lock yourself up in fairy tale towers. This is Arabella, my sister-in-law, and the children screeching on the lawn are her stepchildren, Robin and Joy. Although I daresay the one screeching the loudest is my own offspring. The lady in the chair is the dowager duchess Augusta. We will let her sleep. And this, of course, is Birdie. She has been expecting you.” She drew a reluctant Birdie forward.
“But Lucy…” Now that he was here, the last thing Birdie wanted to do was talk to him. Especially not alone.
His eyes bore into hers.
She stared wordlessly across at him, her heart pounding.
“I would like to talk to my wife alone.” It sounded more like a command, not a request, in the kind of tone that he’d use with his soldiers.
The Duke of Ashmore, no doubt unused to being commanded about in his own home, lifted an unamused eyebrow. To anyone in the ton, that would’ve been a sign that the recipient had just been socially exterminated. Gabriel, however, was happily unaware of that and lifted an eyebrow at the duke in return. Given that he had only one, it made a ferocious impact.
Birdie felt Lucy’s hand upon her back, pushing her towards Gabriel and she stalled.
Arabella, more perceptive, looked at Birdie with a worried frown.
Ashmore was equally perceptive. “My dear Duke. What you want or not is entirely beside the point. The question, rather is, what does the lady want, and is she inclined to talk with you?”
Birdie decided she liked Lucy’s husband immensely. She threw him a grateful look.
“I’d rather not,” she said. “I mean, I am certain there is not much to discuss.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I mean, what is there to say? Certainly nothing from my side. If you have something to say, you can say it here.”
“You can’t mean that,” Gabriel said roughly.
Birdie could be stubborn when she wanted to. She pushed out her lower lip and evaded his look. Her heart hammered. There was nothing she could tell him. She had told him her story; she had asked for his forgiveness; she knew she didn’t deserve it. She would not beg for his love. Maybe he would leave now and then she could continue nursing her wounded heart. She heard him breathe heavily. Then sigh.
When she heard Arabella and Lucy gasp in unison, her eyes flew up—and she froze.
In the Duke of Ashmore’s drawing room, Captain Eversleigh, also known as the Duke of Dunross, who’d lived as a hermit in a stone tower the last five years and who’d eschewed society as best as he could, had got down on his knees in front of the entire company.
“I am not a man of many words, and when I do speak, I have no pretty words to offer,” he began. “I am a simple man, a soldier, who knows only how to get things done by commanding other men across the battlefield. I would beg your forgiveness for not having listened to reason when you tried to explain your situation to me. My only excuse is that I was overwhelmed with the events that had happened. McKenna’s death. The smuggling. Your brother’s arrival. I really did not know what to think anymore. I just wanted you to know that I have sought out Cecily Burns. She is Mrs Cecily Varns now, as she has married the vicar’s son, and both seem to be very happy. I had a good talk with both, and her account of events is identical to yours. Not that I needed that confirmation, but she insisted that it had been all her idea and that she alone was to blame. She considers you her saviour and insists that she would have never found her happiness if it hadn’t been for you. I have settled a good portion of my pension on her, so Cecily and her family will be provided for, and with that, I consider my vow to her father fulfilled. I then visited Miss Hilversham’s Seminary, and I was devastated not to find you there. The good lady sent me here. Please tell me I have not come in vain. I need you to know one thing: that I love you dearly, with all my heart and soul and all I am capable of. I have done so from the moment you returned to the church, with the lightning flashing all about you. You looked like a fairy tale creature, magical and beautiful. I did not realise the truth about my emotions until you left. I am, undoubtedly, a fool. Even if you find you cannot reciprocate the feeling, I beg you to accept my humble hand in marriage. Allow me to make amends.”
Gabriel let out a sigh as he concluded his speech. His eyes filled with tears; he was evidently in agony.
Everyone in the room remained still. They could hear the ormolu clock ticking in the silence.
Gabriel remained on his knees. Everyone turned to stare at Birdie.
“Of course, she will accept you!” Lucy bounced up and down on the sofa.
“Hush, Lucy, let Birdie speak for herself,” Arabella interrupted and wrung her hands.
“If the obvious answer doesn’t immediately come to her, then—” Ashmore contributed.
Birdie choked forth a sob and threw herself at Gabriel. In an attempt to hold her, he nearly fell backwards. “Oh, I do, I do, I do, how can you even ask, you silly man. I’ve loved you so, every minute and I felt so damned that I did, knowing it was all a lie and that you were not really mine.” Birdie sobbed into his waistcoat.
Gabriel clutched her to him tightly as an incredulous smile spread over his face.
Lucy and Arabella cried along. “That was the most romantic speech I’ve ever heard.” Arabella wiped her nose. “Philip wasn’t nearly as romantic.”
“Nor was Henry,” Lucy said.
