“He…he was too old. Nearly five years my senior.”
“Nearly one foot in the grave, then.” He grasped her wrist. Rubbed his thumb across the bluish green veins that ran like ribbons beneath her skin. “Why, Bry? Why havena ye taken a husband in all these years? Ye have had every opportunity.”
“Maybe I am still waiting.”
“For what?”
Turning her head to the side, she pinned her gaze on the outdoor terrace where a small collection of gentlemen had gathered to smoke cigars, her brother among them. The embers glowed in the darkness, small circles of orange fire. “How is Miss Adair? You’ve not mentioned her in your letters.”
“Are ye asking me if I am involved with another woman?”
Her eyes cut back to his. “And if I am?”
“Then I’d tell ye that while Allison and I remain friends, we ended our affair months ago. Shortly after I saw ye in the park, in fact.”
“Why?”
“Ye already know the answer.”
“If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t be asking the question.”
His mouth curved. “Aye and ye would make a fine interrogator, Lady Brynne Weston.”
She tugged her wrist free. “I am not trying to interrogate you.”
“I found pleasure in Allison’s company, ’tis true. I willna deny it, or apologize for it, as we were two consenting adults who knew what the other was after. For me, it was a means by which tae pass the time while I waited.”
“What were you waiting for?”
“Ye, Bry.” As he met her gaze, his eyes shone as brightly as the cigars. “I was always waiting for ye. Just like ye have always been waiting for me, or else ye would have married that prince.”
She was unable to deny it.
Not without lying.
And that…that she couldn’t do. Not to Lachlan, who often seemed to know her better than she knew herself.
“When he asked me to marry him…” When she hesitated, her heart gave a wildthumpagainst her ribs, as if it were a feral thing trying to break down the walls of its cage. “When he asked me to marry him, the first thing I thought of was you.”
“I canna promise ye the world, Bry. Or a fancy estate high on a hill.” He turned into her. Gently took her hands in his. Squeezed her fingers. “But I can promise that I’ll never put ye on a shelf. I’ll never take ye for granted. And I’ll love ye every single day for the rest of our lives on earth and in heaven. Marry me, little bird. Marry me, and give us what we’ve both been waiting for all these years.”
Brynne had long last track of the number of proposals she’d received. It was not a statement bred of arrogance, but rather resigned truth. Ever since her debut, she had found herself inundated with them, some more memorable than others.
The Duke of Tremblay had filled the entire parlor with roses. Their overwhelming scent–and the sight of the duke, a man twenty years her senior, down on bended knee–had sent her running for the nearest chamber pot.
Once she had chased a baby tiger–atiger–through the halls after the Earl of Sutton had presented it to her with a ring tied round the animal’s neck and it had promptly bitten him on the arm.
She’d felt more sympathy for the tiger.
The Marquess of Rutherford had paraded a troupe of somersaulting acrobats in front of her.
The Duke of Sommersby had lit the sky with fireworks and then attempted to get her into a gas balloon to view them from above. It was most fortunate that she had declined his offer, as a flying spark had caught on the silk canopy and promptly burned the balloon to the ground before takeoff.
Now Lachlan was asking her to marry him. Without flowers, or animals, or flying deathtraps. Without even a ring. Yet the simplicity of his proposal was more heartfelt, and more genuine, than any she had ever received.
“Lachlan, I–”
“Thereyou are!” As if on some terribly ill-timed cue, Lady Theresa Hillbrook–as renowned for her outlandish taste in fashion as she was for her shrill voice–toddled towards them, the train of her orange gown adorned with bright pink bows billowing in her wake. “I’ve been lookingeverywhere.” Breathless and beaming, she blinked curiously at Lachlan. “Who might this fine gentleman be? Goodness but you’re tall, aren’t you? And so broad-shouldered. It’s a wonder you fit through the door.”
