“I see.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek, then let his lips wander over her cheekbone to her temple, the wisps of golden-brown hair there tickling his nose. “Is there anyone else here at Hawke’s Run you’re fond of, Helena?”
“Not fond, no, but perhaps…” She gasped as he nipped at her earlobe.
“Perhaps?” He closed his hands around her waist and lifted her onto his lap. “Perhaps there’s someone here you feel more than fondness for? Perhaps someone you might…love?”
She rested her hands on his chest, but a forlorn sigh slipped from her lips. “Yes, but—”
He covered her hands with his, stroking her fingers. “Might that person be me?”
She pressed her face into his chest to hide it. “Yes, but—”
“No, Helena.” He clasped her face in his hands. “Look at me when you tell me you love me.”
Her pulse was fluttering in her throat, her beautiful blue gray-eyes searching his. “Idolove you, Adrian, so very much, but—”
He touched his fingers to her lips to quiet her. “There is nothing else that matters but love, and I love you so much, sweetheart, with everything I have, and everything I am.”
“Y—you do?” She peeked up at him from under her eyelashes. “You love me?”
“Yes, you maddening creature, of course, I do. I didn’t think I could ever fall in love again, but you took me by surprise, sweetheart. Perhaps it was the mistletoe you threw at me, because I’ve been mad for you ever since. If you leave Hawke’s Run, Helena, you will break my heart into a thousand pieces.”
“But…but what about Lady Anne?”
“Ah, Lady Anne. Tell me the truth, Helena. Have you been trying to matchmake me with Lady Anne?”
She shrugged, but a guilty flush stained her cheeks. “It might have crossed my mind that the two of you would suit.”
“Lady Anne is my friend, but nothing more than that.” He tweaked one of her curls, a grin rising to his lips. “For sisters who are notorious for matchmaking, you’re rather bad at it, you know.”
She toyed with the folds of his cravat with her eyes still lowered. “What about Lady Pamela Fielding?”
“Lady Pamela Fielding!” He threw back his head in a laugh. “Good Lord, has that bit of gossip made it into my own house?”
“Abby’s sister in London wrote to her about it. She says Lady Pamela is very fashionable and beautiful—”
“I’ve never looked twice at Lady Pamela Fielding, I promise you. There’s not a drop of truth to that rumor.”
“There isn’t?”
“No, love. Not a single drop.”
“Oh, well…that’s good, then, because I’m certain she must be dreadful.”
“She is, indeed.” But the last thing he wanted to talk about when he had Helena in his arms was Lady Pamela. He dragged a fingertip over her lower lip. “I can’t let you go, Helena. I want you to stay here with us forever. I want to marry you, sweetheart. Do you suppose the Templeton family has room for another countess?”
“I want that too, Adrian, so much, but what about Euphemia?” She let out a shaky breath. “If I stay here, she’ll be all alone once my youngest sister Tilly goes, and I can’t bear for her to be left—”
“Shh. We’ll work something out with Euphemia, I promise it, but until we do, you and the boys and I will all go to Herefordshire together. We can marry there, if you like.”
“You’d leave Hawke’s Run, Adrian?” She slid her arms around his neck, and rested her forehead against his. “Y—you’d do that, forme?”
He cupped her neck and held her close, his lips in her hair. “My dearest Helena, don’t you understand? There isn’t a single thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you.”
Epilogue
HAWKE’S RUN, OXFORDSHIRE, MID-DECEMBER, 1815
“Ryan, Etienne?” Adrian pounded up the back staircase, rounded the corner into the entryway and stopped short. “Oh, there you are.”
