If she would have known in London who was really offering for her, would she have accepted?
Possibly.
She’d at least have given it some consideration and she most certainly would not have run away.
In fact, she might have been thrilled.
Yet, she knew herself well enough that she might have hesitated.
She’d desired Preston, but two waltzes and a stroll in Hyde Park were not enough to determine if he’d make a good husband. He hadn’t even talked to her when he called. He claimed that he couldn’t compete with the dandies…
Twelfth Night, when they were about to retire, he had stopped to tell her something. He stammered and then finally told her goodnight and she’d been left to wonder what he had wanted to say. She still wondered.
“Twelfth Night, when we were in the hall, what did you wish to say to me but didn’t?”
The silence stretched and she feared that he wouldn’t answer.
“I wished to tell you that I thought you beautiful. To express my desire. To confess what I hoped we could become.”
“What did you wish we could become?” she asked quietly and prayed that it wasn’t simply just lovers.
“That you’d be my wife, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice what was in my heart. I feared it was too soon.”
“Why are you able to tell me now?”
“Because I’m not looking at you. I know we’ve not known one another long, but I know what is in my heart. I know that I love you and want you as my wife. I also accept that I’ve likely lost you due to my deception and inability to express myself.”
His voice was rough with defeat, perhaps pain.
“Will you ever lie to me again or withhold information.”
“No. Never.”
“You wanted to talk to me last night, yet didn’t,” she reminded him.
“I fully intended to tell you everything, but you had just emerged from your bath, your skin still damp…I’ve another confession,” he said.
If it was more deception, Althea wasn’t certain what she’d do.
“My lust for you is strong, Althea. Too often it has overruled what was on my mind, and last night, I believe any vocabulary that I once possessed was wiped clean from my memory.”
She smiled as her face heated. It might be the nicest compliment she’d received from him, especially since there was nothing proper about it.
“I did come to tell you that I loved you and hoped that you’d become my wife.”
She hated that he’d deceived her, but she also understood why.
Further, she loved him too.
Althea pulled the curtain open and looked up into his eyes where she read expectation, fear, longing, and hope. His face was taut as if waiting for bad news, and he stood still and stiff.
She smiled, then pulled Preston close and kissed him deeply.
He returned it immediately, wrapping his arms about her, and pulling her tight against his body.
Althea broke the kiss, looked up, and brought her hand to his cheek. The scruff of his stubble tickled her hand and she smiled knowing that this would not be the last time she’d see Preston unshaven.
“My heart is yours, and has been, and I will care for yours with all of my being. But, do not ever withhold from me again.”
