Lisbeth’s face was at first horrified then wary as she recognized him. He must have looked fearsome invading the interior of the carriage, dripping wet and looking wild.
“I went to your house,” he said.
She pulled out a notebook and began to write.Did you get my letter?
“Yes, I did. I’m so sorry, Lisbeth. I was a fool.”
No! I was the one who did wrong by you. Please forgive me.
“There is nothing for me to forgive, for it is I who should beg your pardon for being such an arse.”
Lisbeth’s eyes widened again at his choice of words then softened and her lips curved. He loved her eyes, and he especially loved her lips. He wanted to kiss them more than anything.
“Do you still love me, Lisbeth? Despite my many deficiencies?”
He waited while she wrote.
I love your deficiencies. I love you. Can you love me despite my need to control everything and everyone? I may yet turn into a crazy old lady.
He laughed at that. “And I love you,” he said, picking up her cold hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I happen to have a soft spot for crazy old ladies. I’m even warming to your grandmother.”
She laughed but it came out sounding like a hyena. It filled him with such sadness and joy.
“Your voice, what did the doctor say?”
She scribbled away frantically again. He hated that Dalmere had done this to her, that he had not got to her in time to prevent her injury.
It will return in time but may not be the same. Can you live with a woman who may sound like a horse?
He kissed her then because he needed to show her that she didn’t need to talk to show him how she felt. “I quite like horses,” he replied, and kissed her again.
She kissed him back with more gusto than he expected. He found himself surrounded in Lisbeth. Her arms wound around his neck, her breasts delightfully squished against his chest, and her lips firmly on his. She straddled his hips, and his hands found their home on her backside. This was grand. This was how he had wanted to be greeted yesterday, which reminded him he still had a question he needed to ask her.
“Lisbeth, will you let me love you for the rest of our lives?”
She looked at him curiously, and then nodded.
“That is good news,” he said, grinning.
She raised an eyebrow and looked around for her notebook.
“What? You want more?” He was enjoying this just a little too much. She hit him in the arm, playfully. He sighed dramatically. “Very well. Lisbeth, my darling, my love. Will you marry me?”
She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Yes, I will.” The husky tone was there, as before, but more so. It made him hot. It made him tingle all over. It made him very, very happy.
This time when he looked at her it was to see tears streaming down her face and the most brilliant smile upon her face. She was apparently very happy too. He loved it when she smiled. Hell, he loved her when she did anything, including when she used those eyes to burn a hole through his skull when she was miffed with him.
He loved her and she loved him. The feeling was so freeing, so liberating that he would have happily shed his clothes and done a jig in the street. Thankfully for all those who may have been witness to such a scene, the urge was redirected by her insistent wiggling on his lap.
Oliver smiled and used his fist to bang on the side of the hack and called out to the driver, “A trip around Hyde Park, I think, driver.”
Lisbeth nuzzled into his neck and whispered something very naughty in his ear.
“Better make that two trips!”
Epilogue
“You can’t escapehim now you have married him, you know,” Lord Anthony Ashton whispered in Lisbeth’s ear as they watched Oliver bow over Anna’s hand as their dance ended.
