Rose grabbed his arm. “Come. It’s time. Choose your words carefully.” At such a serious tone coming from his sister, he glanced down at her to see her scowling at him. Her statement sounded like a threat.
“Dory, look who came to visit.” Rose’s face changed in an instant, but he knew her false smile.
Dory turned, her eyes widening.
She appeared more beautiful than he remembered, and in that moment, he knew himself to be an idiot to think he could ever allow her to marry another. “Dory.”
Mademoiselle Lissette came forward. “Rose, let us retrieve the knives so we can use them again.”
As his sister and the Frenchwoman walked toward the targets, he tried to find the words he wanted to say, but they were a tangled pile of twine. That thought had him smiling. “I had much I wished to say to you, but I find my thoughts are a muddle.”
Dory’s brows lowered. “If you came to tell me about Lord Leighhall, you’re too late. I know.” She stood straighter, as if expecting an argument.
“That is not why I came.”
Uncertainty flashed in her multi-colored gaze, though at the moment, green seemed to be dominating. “Then do not let me take time away from your visit to your sister.” She turned away and took a few steps before he found his voice.
“Wait.” Where were his words?
She stopped but didn’t look at him. “Lord Harewood, I don’t believe we have anything further to discuss.”
A spike of fear ripped through his chest. He needed to remain calm. She was not married yet. He had today to convince her.“But we do. We need to discuss your pending marriage to Lord Dearling. I understand from my sister that he visited yesterday.”
She looked at him then. “He did.” Her voice sounded wary.
“I don’t believe that Dearling can protect you from theton, or even his own mother, to be completely honest. Whatever he may have said to convince you of his loyalty, I promise it will not last long. He may even fail to arrive at the church.”
She glanced back toward his sister before walking over to face him. “Lord Dearling would never be so uncouth. He told me quite clearly that he could not marry me because of my mother. So if you think to find another man for me to marry, you do not truly understand the damage my mother has done.”
He wanted to shout with joy but kept his own counsel. “But I do understand, which is why I am proposing thatImarry you.” That didn’t sound like he’d meant it to. Why couldn’t he think? Was this how she felt most of the time? If so, her concerted efforts on conversation were quite admirable.
She lifted her chin and placed one hand on her hip. “If you think to come here to play the martyr and marry me to save the reputation of this school, then you are as ignorant as a baby in a lumbermill. Why would I marry you when I have a perfectly lovely place here, where I can learn all I wish? I will no doubt be left here since neither my mother nor my father have thought about me in months. In fact, I may stay here until I’m expert enough to teach future students, thereby enjoying my life to the fullest whilst doing what I wish. I understand that spinsters do have a bit of independence, though certainly not as much as widows. Now, being a widow would be the perfect situation for me, as a widow has no need to be a companion or to have a chaperone. Widows truly have the best of society, as they can enjoy the events they choose with no one judging their actions or expecting them to marry. Of course, paradoxically, to become a widow, first one must secure a husband, which we’ve alreadyestablished is beyond my means and unnecessary. And why are you smiling at me?”
As if the stars had aligned in her single soliloquy, his mind cleared. “I have missed your squiggly lines.”
“My squiggly…? Oh. I did not know you enjoyed my ramblings. In fact, it was you who helped me to stop them.” She frowned at him, clearly not pleased with his experiment.
“Yes, I did, but only to help you with others. I have always enjoyed them.” He smiled at her, unable to stop. Everything about her he loved. Her rambles, her humor, even her pique.
“Yes, well, I’m glad I have been able to entertain you, but I still don’t see any reason why I would marry you.” She lifted her hand as if to dismiss him.
Once more, panic set in. “Because I love you.” He waited, his breath stuck in his lungs.
“You love me?” Her words came out in a whisper, as if she couldn’t believe it.
He took her bare hand. “I do. I love you, Dory. I don’t wish to go another day without you as my wife. I would marry you tomorrow if I could, but I still wouldn’t because I would want all of England to know that I am marrying you, and they are invited to attend.”
She continued to stare at him in disbelief. “But I can’t be Belinda.”
He squeezed her hand in his. “I loved Belinda with all my heart. When she died, I thought she took my heart with her. But then I met you. You made my heart beat again. You showed me what happiness could be. You brought me love. At first, I was blind, so busy observing others, I failed to observe myself. But I finally understood my feelings. I had Belinda. Now I want Dory. I believe you love me. Tell me I’m right, Dory. Please.” He took another deep breath to steady his heart. “Do you love me?”
Her eyes almost glowed green now as water filled them. “I do.”
Relief, joy, and happiness washed over him like the sun’s first rays warmed the Earth, his heart finally able to beat without a heavy rock holding it down. “Since I love you, and you love me, I ask you now, Lady Dorothea Ansley of Preston. Will you be my wife?”
She sniffed, but her smile had returned. “I will, Fen.”
At the use of her nickname for him, he couldn’t resist her another moment and pulled her closer to kiss her.
