“Annette,” I whispered. “Will you allow me to court you?”
She bit her lip, drawing my attention to her mouth, and it required every bit of my self-control not to kiss her again.
“I…I don’t know, Edward,” she said. “I never planned to marry. It was never something that I wanted.”
“Has that changed? Is marriage something you would consider?”
She stared at me, her brows furrowed with pensiveness. This question was not easy for her to answer. Fear raged inside her, that much I could see.
I reached for her hand and brought it to my chest, pressing it flat over my pounding heart. “I cannot express the depth of my admiration for you. I understand your hesitation, your reluctance. Truly, I do. After the way Wilcot has treated your friend—a friend you clearly love—I can see why you would question my intentions. But I promise you, Annette, that my admiration is genuine. I care deeply for you, and I would never wish to control you. I would never hinder your freedom deliberately in any way. The two of us could work together, as equals, to bring about change. We could fight for freedom, not just for those who have been enslaved but for women who have become victims to unfeeling husbands. We can fight for reform.”
She blinked, moisture gathering in her eyes. “You would fight for more than abolition? For women to have a path out of marriage?”
“Yes,” I responded firmly. “I would.”
She tilted her head. “Why?No other man of my acquaintance would do so.”
“Because it is important to you; therefore, it is important to me. Because you’ve opened my eyes to its necessity. Because…” Something stirred in my chest, and it felt too strong to be labeled as simple admiration. I was not yet ready to analyze the sensation, but it swelled nonetheless, leaving me with no doubt that I would do anything for this woman if she asked it of me. “Because I want to.”
She studied me for a long moment before averting her gaze. “You seem to have given this a great deal of thought. Indeed, you sound closer to a proposal than to courtship.”
There was a question in that statement, one I did not know how to answer without revealing too much. “I have given it a fair bit of thought, yes. After arriving at Kenwick and spending more time in your company, I realized a match with you is the only one I find tolerable.”
Her lips lifted, though she still did not meet my gaze. “Tolerable? How flattering, Lieutenant.”
“It certainly is. You will remember the flock of debutantes I had following me at any given time. I was never without interested females.”
Her nose scrunched adorably. “How could I forget? It was the entire reason you enlisted me for a pretend courtship.”
“One that worked splendidly, until you left.”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “I confess that I often wondered how you fared after we left for Kenwick.” Her smile faded, and she looked at me. Not just at me, but into me. She saw everything I wanted and hoped for, and I had no desire to hide any of it from her. Annette tilted her head, her words soft. “You said after arriving at Kenwick. That is when you realized that we would suit?”
I nodded, uncertain why those words had stood out to her. In truth, I had briefly considered what it would be like to court her in earnest during our façade in London. But I had tossed the notion aside. At the time, I had no intention of marrying soon, and Annette had thoroughly despised me. A match between us never would have worked.
Or so I had believed until we kissed. The days following our meeting in the alley, I had missed her, much to my chagrin, and longed for her company. But such consideration of courtship had been in vain. She had left Town, and I had been unsure I would ever see her again.
Until my pursuit of Hollinsby brought me here.
The moment my eyes had fallen on her in that vestibule, my chest felt near to bursting. Excitement, anticipation, happiness—experiencing them with a single glimpse of her pointed to one thing, and even now, I feared allowing myself to fully accept that very obvious conclusion.
I took a step back, putting space between us, and clasped my hands behind my back. “I know we have vexed one another in the past, and we likely shall in the future, but I believe we could do great things together despite that. I have never felt more confident in pursuing my goals than when I am with you. I’ve no great wealth and only a small amount of influence among theton. But with you at my side, I would overcome those obstacles, not simply due to the title attached to your name, but because of your spirit and determination. Your wit and charm.”
“My wit and charm? You wish me to woo theton?” She tapped a finger against those tempting lips, and a mischievous glint lit her eyes. “I suppose I could do that. Is that all you would require of me? As your wife, I mean.”
Your wife.My heart tripped over those words. I liked the way she spoke them while looking at me. “As I said, I would never oppose your independence. I wouldrequirenothing, though there are things I hope we can share, as most married couples do.”
“Like a home?” she suggested without hesitation.
“Yes.”
“And mealtimes?” She tilted her head, mock pensiveness filling her features. “Although, I must insist we retain separate trays. I cannot abide sharing my food, especially dessert. Russell is always snatching my sweets, and I could never marry a man who did the same.”
I chuckled. “Well, as I’ve learned the sort of revenge you take when someone steals your sweets, I aim to avoid that. One salty tart was more than enough experience for me.”
She giggled but quickly covered it with forced somberness. “I am glad we have an understanding on that front. What else shall we share?”
How much should I confess? I wanted to share everything with her, but would such a blunt response scare her away? Annette was only beginning to consider marriage. The last thing I wanted was to cause a retreat.
