“I believe that is the question I should be asking you,” she replied, giving an encouraging grin.
He gave a soft chuckle. “You’re indeed right. But it is the truth nonetheless. As much as I fought it, denied it, and ran from it, you’ve held my heart for ransom for a long while.”
“And I shall never return it,” she replied firmly.
“I do not wish you to. But the question is, do I have yours?” he asked, and she detected a slightly insecure tone to his voice, so at odds with his usual confidence.
She squeezed his hand, met his gaze, and answered, “From the first day I met you, I was both lost and found. My greatest fear was that you held my heart and didn’t wish to. But it’s only ever been yours. And only will be,” she said, a hitch to her voice as she confessed the deepest truth.
He spun her once more, not responding, but when she came back to his embrace, he didn’t hold her in the frame of a waltz but in the embrace of a man entirely in love, and kissed her in front of God and everyone.
She didn’t hear the titters of those in attendance.
She didn’t hear the applause when Heathcliff finally released her from the searing kiss.
She did, however, hear the cheers when he swept her up in his arms and carried her from the ballroom.
And she most certainly heard him say, “I love you,” as he reached their bedroom door and set her inside, closing it firmly.
Lucas had said there was nothing more enticing than gossip and a good romance.
And that night they most certainly gave a scandalous display of both.
