Page 128 of Courting the Country Miss

The worry lines returned to his brow. “Do you think your father will reject my suit?”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I have already written him and told him how much you’ve changed and how much I love you. I also informed him that I refused two other fine gentlemen because I will have no one but you, so unless he wants me to die an old maid, he’d best accept you.”

He lifted a dark brow. “Two offers?”

She laughed guiltily. “I may have exaggerated Captain Kensington’s interest in me.”

He chuckled. “No one else believes you have a devious streak in you—it’s small but it does exist.” He smoothed a wayward tendril by her ear and skimmed his fingers along her cheek.

How she loved him! She leaned her cheek against his hand. “No one else knows me like you do.”

She kissed him. Before she had time to worry if he thought her too forward for attacking him—twice—Tristan wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with such possessive tenderness that she melted.

He pulled away as flushed and breathless as she. “If it were anything less important than speaking with your father, I would not be going.”

“If it were anything less important, I would take exception to your leaving me for so long.”

Brushing a hand over her cheek, he grinned. “I have something for you. It belonged to my great-grandmother.”

She brightened. “The one you called Oma?”

He nodded. “She taught me to love poetry. Despite their harsh-sounding language, Germans are extremely poetic and always speak with beautiful imagery.” He retrieved a tiny package from a pocket in his tailcoat and unwrapped the handkerchief.

In his palm lay an exquisite brooch of delicate silver roses and leaves, and tiny rose cut diamonds. Her breath rushed out at the thoughtful gesture. “Oh my,” she breathed.

With a hushed voice, he explained, “Oma often pinned it to her gowns. She said it reminded her how much she and her late husband loved one another.” His face clouded. “She passed on a few months before my mother left.”

If only his grandmother had been there to love and reassure her broken-hearted great-grandson abandoned by a thoughtless mother.

“I will cherish this always,” Leticia said. She pinned it to her bodice and glanced up at him.

He kissed her, then held her close, his familiar scent embracing her as much as his arms. After another kiss to her temple, he stood. “I will be back in three days. I love you, Leticia.”

She would never tire of hearing those words. “I love you, Tristan. Godspeed. Come to dinner when you get home.”

He grinned. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

To say Aunt Alice was in raptures over Leticia’s engagement to Tristan would have been an understatement. They embarked on a flurry of activity selecting a new gown for the ceremony as well as several new gowns and accessories Aunt Alice declared were quite necessary for a married lady. Isabella caught Aunt Alice’s contagious enthusiasm and soon behaved as her old self.

When she wasn’t shopping with her aunt and sister, Leticia met with their solicitor or contractors to begin rebuilding the school. In the meantime, Mrs. Harper taught her students in the park with only a few borrowed books and an ever-growing class size.

Leticia threw herself into the daily fray, all the while missing Tristan. On the third day, she arrived home later than she’d planned. With any luck, Tristan had returned and would be present for a small dinner party tonight. She’d invited Elizabeth and Richard as well. She’d toyed with the idea of inviting Lord Bradbury for Isabella’s sake, but discarded the idea for fear both Tristan and Lord Bradbury would be uncomfortable. So, with little time to change for dinner, she headed for the stairs, unbuttoning her plum pelisse, and calling for her lady’s maid.

“Miss Wentworth,” called a footman from the foot of the stairs. “There’s an urchin at the kitchen door asking to speak to you. He says he is here on behalf of one Molly.”

Leticia put a hand over her heart. “I hope she’s all right.”

As she hurried to the kitchen, a second footman came from the front of the house. “Miss Wentworth. Mr. Barrett is here to see you.”

She halted. Tristan was home! Forgetting herself, she trotted into the front parlor. There he stood, so beloved that her heart did a triple flip. He’d always been the kind of handsome that made her smile and sometimes covertly admire him, even when she’d been sure her heart belonged to someone else, but at that moment, he was so beautiful that the sight of him stopped her breath.

“You’re home!” She launched herself into his arms.

Laughing, he caught her. All the nerve endings in her body let out a sigh as if getting a drink after a drought. He held her close. “Not quite, Love, but I plan to make a home with you soon.”

She nestled in closer and kissed him, half laughing at his enthusiasm, then moaning as his mouth brought her to an edge she wanted to leap off.

When he ended the kiss, she fanned herself and managed, “Father said yes, I take it?”