Those words hit her harder than a runaway phaeton, and everything in her wanted to lean into them and him and stay in his arms forever.
A more rational part tried to keep joy at bay. “You said that in a moment of great peril,” she began. “I would not be so cruel as to hold you to it.”
“I meant it, peril or not, Diana. I knew it before I said it that day. I knew it and I knew what I wanted.” He moved forward, and she found no strength to step away. He cupped her cheek and she shivered, for the feel of his skin on hers was heaven. “I love you and I want to marry you.”
If she hadn’t already been leaning against the window, she would have fallen over. “What?”
“You are everything I have ever wanted, everything I shall ever want.” He held her gaze steadily. “I have not ever felt for anyone even a shadow of what I feel when I touch you or see you or even merely hear your name. I could not live my life without you.”
“That would make me a duchess,” she said, dumbfounded.
He nodded. “Yes, it would. And a duchess with duties, for I have realized, thanks to you, that I cannot turn away from this life anymore. I have given up my position at the War Department, effective immediately. Though Stalwood did ask that I make myself available to review case files from time to time. Something I would only do if you would be agreeable to such that.”
“Stop,” she breathed, her head spinning as she steadied herself on the back of the closest chair. “You are ahead of yourself with all these plans and questions. The fact of the matter is that I don’t belong here. Not in this world, in your life.”
He smiled, a crooked little expression that was wry and warm. “Oh, my darling, neither of us belong here, do we? But we belong together. I need you. I need you at my side. And I want to be there for you, as well.”
What he was offering was everything she’d ever wanted or desired. Everything she’d never dared to hope for. But there was still fear there. Fear and uncertainty.
“It wouldn’t be easy,” she whispered.
“Sometimes it wouldn’t be,” he conceded with a tilt of his head. “But I think we’ve both learned through bitter experience that is true of life in general. I bore a great weight on my shoulders, until you took some of it for me. I hope I did the same for you.”
She nodded. “You did. I never knew how much my secrets ate at me until I was able to speak them.”
“Then be my wife,” he whispered again. “Spend a lifetime with me where we’ll share not only our joys, but our pains. Where no one of us will bear the full weight of either. We’ll do it together. Be my partner in the truest sense. Be my heart and my love until there are no more sunrises for us. Please.Pleasedon’t turn away from the happiness we could have. Love me and marry me.”
His face was close to hers now, his breath gentle on her lips. He slid his arms around her, and suddenly she was home. The most perfect home she had ever known or would ever know again. It was everything, and in that moment she knew she could not walk away from it. There had been too much loss in both their lives to accept another.
“I do love you, Lucas,” she said as she leaned up to brush her lips to his. “I do love you, and I will marry you.”
He said nothing, only pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. But she needed no words. She felt his joy and his relief in the way his mouth moved against hers. She felt the future laid out before them, far happier than the past.
Because they would be together, and that would always be enough.
Enjoy an exciting excerpt from
The Duke of Hearts,
out May 2018
Spring 1812
It could have been called a 1797 Club party, thanks to the number of friends Matthew Cornwallis, Duke of Tyndale, had in attendance. Dukes abounded, in seemingly every corner. Once upon a time, he would have enjoyed this moment when they were all together. It had become so rare over the years as his friends grew into their titles, their marriages, their responsibilities. But at present, it was not joy in Matthew’s heart as he watched them from a distance.
It was something far darker, far uglier. Something he did not wish to name. More than half of his friends were here with their wives. They spun around the dancefloor in pairs, eyes locked, hands inappropriately low, laughter echoing, cheeks filling with color thanks to whispered words.
They were all happy. He should have been happy for them. He was. And he wasn’t. Because he was standing on the outside now, looking in on a world he should have joined years ago. Except Angelica had died.
All he was left with were regrets.
Suddenly Robert Smithton, Duke of Roseford, slid up beside him. Wordlessly he handed Matthew a scotch and then lifted his own glass to clink it against Matthew’s.
“To the bachelors,” he said, staring out at the dance floor and their friends. “Those of us left, that is.”
Matthew shut his eyes. There were days when his grief still felt so raw, no matter how many years had passed since the death of his fiancée. Today was one of them, and Robert’s words were like a knife in his heart.
“Sorry,” Robert said softly.
