Still, behaving like a jealous lunatic would get him nowhere. “My apologies,” he somehow managed to say. “I merely saw the look of hesitation in Miss Clemens’s eyes and misinterpreted it as disinterest.” Damn, what a cutthroat lie that was. “I’m Camberly.” He stuck out his hand, and Mr. Foster shook it with the wariness of a man who believed the act might cause him bodily damage. “Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” Mr. Foster said. He drew back his hand and glanced about. “I was hoping to speak with Miss Clemens at greater length, but I see a friend of mine looking for me, so you must excuse me.”Perceptive fellow. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Clemens. I enjoyed it immensely.” Mr. Foster added a hasty parting nod to Caleb and walked away.
“What is the matter with you?” Mary hissed. “You were uncharacteristically rude to Mr. Foster, who actually happens to be an amicable gentleman.”
“All gentlemen are amicable until they get what they want.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Ah, well that would explain why you are suddenly so different from the man I knew at Clearview. He was polite. You are playing the high-handed duke, just as your father liked to do.” Sparks were practically flying off her incensed person. “I don't know what you were hoping to accomplish with me, but whatever this is,” she waved a hand between them, “is insufferable.”
Caleb blinked and suddenly realized she was walking away. Hell and damnation. To say this evening was turning into a disaster would now be an understatement. Her words sounded final, and his body shook in response.
“Wait!”
The word was out before he could think, instinctively shouted to keep her from leaving. She turned slowly. Silence ensued and Caleb realized his outburst had caused everyone else to pay attention too.
His lungs strained with the effort to draw a calming breath. Panic had been steadily growing inside him since the moment Devlin had delayed his arrival. It had bloomed and flourished at a steady pace, spiking thorns when he'd seen her dance with another.
Heart thudding as if it wished to escape his chest, Caleb swallowed and took a step forward. “Forgive me, Mary.” His voice was louder than he'd intended, but now that he'd started this unplanned spectacle, he might as well see it through. “My only intention was to win your heart.” The music, which had still been playing, faded, accentuating the ruffle of gowns and accompanying whispers.
Caleb ignored it all, his focus entirely on the woman before him. Her eyes were wary, but at least she was listening.
“But caution turned me into an ass,” he continued. A few muffled snickers followed. “I wanted to be certain that you wanted me for me and that you would be able to look past the title to the man behind it.”
“I already did so at Clearview,” she said.
“Yes, but how could you know that was really me when everything else was a lie? I had to be sure that you realized the man you got to know there is who I really am. And I had to be certain that you made your choice with a clear mind and not because of the earth-shattering kisses we shared.” Gasps vibrated around him, but Caleb ignored those as well. “I wanted to have no doubt in my mind that you love me as much as I have come to love you, as if the world might end if you choose to refuse me.” He stepped closer still, so close he could see her eyes shimmer like water catching the moonlight. He reached for her hand and dropped to one knee, deaf to everything save her sharpened breathing. “You are everything to me, Mary: my joy, my heart, my future. I cannot imagine my life without you in it, so please, tell me you will marry me, Mary. Make me the happiest and the most fortunate man there is and be my wife, my duchess, my love.”
The gathering tears in her eyes spilled over and streaked down her cheeks. Her bottom lip started to tremble, and the sound she emitted was a broken sob of emotion.
Caleb tightened his hold on her hand and smiled up into her beautiful face. She nodded ever so slightly, and then with increasing vigor. Caleb's heart began to unfurl as the panic receded. He rose and she was suddenly in his arms.
“Yes.” The word spilled from her lips and trembled like raindrops clinging to leaves in the wake of a downpour.
Her mouth met his, and a burst of applause accompanied cheers as he hugged her close. Kissing her deeply, he conveyed all the love he felt in his heart and the resounding wish he had to spend every moment of every day with her by his side.
Mary's weddingday dawned to the bright, pristine splendor of new fallen snow. The clouds that had hovered over London since the previous evening had disappeared, receding like waves abandoning shore at low tide.
Rising, Mary went to the window and looked out at the garden below. A robin there hopping from branch to brand with something in its beak made her smile.
As for the day itself...
Her smile widened as she turned to look at the gown she would wear. Freshly pressed, it hung over her wardrobe door, a creamy silk creation trimmed with pale green ribbon to match the accompanying velvet pelisse.
A knock at the door sounded, and Mary granted entry to her mother, who swept into the room with a brilliant smile. “I have brought Fiona to help you prepare,” she said as her maid trailed in behind her. “This is all so exciting, and oh, have you seen the weather? It is absolutely glorious.”
Her mother and Caleb's had both tried to push for a traditional wedding with three weeks of banns, but Caleb had insisted on marrying sooner, as long as Mary agreed. They'd eventually compromised by waiting a week and a half, allowing the time both mothers had requested to make preparations and order a gown. It had also allowed Mary and Caleb to enjoy a brief engagement. He’d shown her his architectural drawings and the articles praising his skills in France. Although she’d known he was a talented man, she’d been quite impressed and even more determined to support his desire to continue with this profession if he wished.
“Do you know,” her mother added, “this will be the first society wedding this year.” She clapped her hands and practically bounced up and down.
Fiona helped Mary with her toilette. She completed the task by adding a dab of lilac water to each of her wrists.
“Don't forget the bosom,” Mrs. Clemens said. “We want it smelling sweet and—”
“Mama!” Mary clasped her hands over her chemise-covered breasts. “Perhaps you should go and see if Cassandra and Emily need anything.”
“But—”
“I will be down when I am ready.”
