You have compromised me in the garden.
I demand you marry me immediately.
Your future bride,
Matilda Philmont
Tilly looked up, outraged. “My sister wrote this.”
“So I guessed after reading your note.” He held out the other, still-smooth page. “You climbed in my office window and wrote this.”
Her cheeks heated, but she met his blue eyes defiantly. “I did. I was angry. I’m still angry. I can’t believe you would—” Her hand flew to her mouth.
“I didn’t make a wager that I could kiss you,” he said in a gentle voice, speaking the realization that had come to her. He caught her hand and drew it from her lips to his. He pressed a kiss to her fingers.
Her heart seemed to stammer, then resumed beating with dizzying vigor. Warmth bloomed where his lips touched her, spreading through every limb.
“Your letter is very scathing.” His voice was low and smooth.
Her eyes went to his mouth.
“Tilly Philmont.” With gentle insistence, he used the hand he still clasped to draw her closer. “I’m more than half in love with you.”
“How much more?” she breathed. Through her reeling emotions, she rather thought she was more than half in love with him, as well.
“A great deal more.” He released her hand and carefully folded her note, then removed his spectacles and stowed both in a pocket. “May I?” He reached for the letter Prudence had written.
Tilly looked down. She hadn’t realized she still held the wrinkled stationary. She nodded.
He took the page from her and crumpled it into a tight ball, which he threw over his shoulder. His expression turned serious. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“And I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Tilly blurted. “I believed the worst, even though I know Prudence can’t be trusted.” How could she have been such a fool? “But when you didn’t call as you said you would, didn’t even look at our townhouse when you left that evening—”
“You were watching me?” He grinned. His blue eyes came alight with pleasure.
Tilly flushed. “I may have glanced out the window once or twice.” She smiled. “Or all day.” Giddiness washed through her. James wasn’t a rake. He hadn’t lied. He really was kind, and so very handsome, and hopefully he was going to kiss her.
Gaze locked with hers, he lowered his head, one hand coming up to cup her cheek.
“No,” a muffled voice shrieked.
Tilly whirled. Prudence, face chalk-white and eyes wide with horror, stood at the parlor window. She was flanked by their mother and Missus Clarke, both wearing matching expressions of shock. A strong, warm hand captured Tilly’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. She turned back to find James smiling down at her. Gazing up at him, she saw the world waiting for her in those blue eyes.
“This isn’t the way I planned to do this, all those days I sat watching you in the garden,” he said. “Somehow, I never envisioned the audience, or your sister screaming.” He dropped to one knee, enveloping the hand he held in both of his. “I don’t believe I care about the details, though, so long as you’re happy, and so long as you say yes.”
Tilly stared at him, eyes wide.
“No!” Prudence shouted again. Tilly yanked her gaze onto her sister. She glared seething hatred at Tilly. She pounded on the window with both fists. “You will not have a duke when I have only a baron, Tilly.”
Turning away from her sister, Tilly held out her other hand.
James took it. He smiled up at her, surely the most handsome man she’d ever seen. “Miss Philmont, will you marry me?”
Tilly’s grin was so wide her cheeks ached. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
