A hand that was not Verity’s tugged at William’s coat.
“Mama says to come and sit,” little Clarence said before turning and running back to the picnic blanket where Charlotte sat watching them. “Mama, I told them to come and sit! Did I do it right?”
“That was well done indeed, Clarence.” Charlotte smiled proudly at her son, then cast a more meaningful look at the lovers. “I have sandwiches,” she called, “and you seem to have a healthy appetite, William.”
William plaited his fingers through Verity’s, drawing her forward while he walked in reverse, still facing her. “I suppose you’ll have to marry me now,” he teased. “We can’t have your lips neglected now that I have claimed them. Do you think you might sayyesif I asked?”
“You will have to ask me to find out,” she answered, quirking her mouth playfully.
William stopped at once and dropped quickly to one knee, her hand still in his but now pulled closer to rest upon his heart. “Miss Lockhart, will you do me the most profound honor of being my wife, to cherish me and scold me, to tell me about beetles even when I don’t remember their names, as long as we both shall live?”
“I will.”
William beamed. He stood and embraced his betrothed, though he did naught else, for Charlotte would surely have had his hide if he did not restrain himself in public.
When they sat, William was obliged to let go of Verity’s hand. But his gaze stayed upon her and she glowed under his constant attention.
“Am I to understand I will have a new sister?” Charlotte asked pleasantly while she poured a glass of lemonade for Verity.
“You will indeed.” William winked. “Are you pleased someone has finally tamed me?”
“I don’t believe that is what Miss Lockhart has done at all,” Charlotte objected. “For you were never the wild thing you pictured yourself to be, dear brother. She has merely shown you it is enough to be yourself, and for that, I thank her from the bottom of my heart.”
“Oh, do call me ‘Verity,’ for we are to be sisters now.”
“Not until I have had the honor first,” interrupted William. He hesitated a moment to savor the imminent experience. Then he breathed her name. “Verity.”
She lowered her lashes and a smile crept upon her face. Shy at first, her lips quirked into a playful pout. “Does this mean I can come to tea and you will not run and hide?” Verity teased him.
“How does tomorrow sound?” asked William. “I promise to stay close.” He coughed mockingly toward Charlotte. “But nottooclose, of course.”
“You will have to write to my parents to secure my hand,” Verity reminded him, “though I can think of nothing they would want more.”
“Unless,” Charlotte pointed out, “you were to also claim the position as vicar.”
William grew suddenly still. In the blur of emotions, he had quite forgotten his lack of prospects.
“I think,” said Verity slowly, as if contemplating every word, “you would make a splendid vicar after all. You have learned to value life and forgive yourself. You would have much to teach your congregation.”
“I could not bear to watch people fall asleep while I am talking,” William answered wryly. “That is,” he continued, tapping his eyepatch, “if this does not frighten them away first.”
Verity shrugged. “Then you will make your sermons shorter. And your roguish charm is not lessened by your new accessory. Being a vicar does not need to be tedious. Think of all thefamilies who have been touched by the war. You would be a comfort and an inspiration to them.”
William had not thought of that. Purpose. He needed a sense of purpose. Else he would soon grow tired of his own company and frustrate the woman he loved.
“I will think on it,” he promised.
Charlotte clapped her hands. “Excellent! Now, how about those sandwiches? Even though ‘Man cannot live on bread alone,’ a sandwich has much to offer an empty stomach.”
The afternoon progressed with much talking, eating, and laughter. William felt as though he had a new lease on life. He watched Verity snuggle little Jane in her arms and imagined their own precious babes with their father’s dark hair and their mother’s clear, blue eyes. His heart swelled at the thought. His great love had not yet reached capacity. Verity had swung the door wide open and so much joy was ready to march right in.
Tomorrow, he would see her again. And every day thereafter if Mrs. Sinclair would permit it. The banns would be called. His bride would stand by his side and they would pledge themselves to each other. For she had chosen him. And he could want for nothing more.
