Page 70 of A Spinster to Reform the Duke
“So I can do this without a great audience.” With those words, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back, intensely, without restraint, holding it to him to show every intention he had. “Rebecca, there is much I need to say to you.”
* * *
Rebecca didn’t utter a word. She was too busy sending silent prayers to the heavens, thanking them for bringing Timothy through what had to be an awful night.
She was aware that Eliza stood a little distance to them, though she watched them avidly.
“Do you remember what I was saying to you yesterday, before…it happened?”
“You mean before you drank the belladonna?” Rebecca asked, earning a smile from Timothy.
She was startled how she thought of him as Timothy now; no longer just the Duke. It had begun the moment his life was in danger. How could she think of him with such cool distance to use a title after that?
“I remember,” Rebecca said quietly. “You said you would no longer define yourself as a rake.”
“Indeed I would not.” Timothy shook his head, before turning his gaze down at where his hand was connected with hers. Before he said anything else, he took her other hand too, so they were stood there together, their fingers entwined. “Perhaps when I think about it, I would not have seen myself as that for some time.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused by what he was saying at all.
He cleared his throat, as if building courage before he looked up, his eyes finding hers.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Rebecca, but I have barely looked at another lady since I have met you.”
“You haven’t?” she asked, finding that hope growing inside her once more.
“No.” He shook his head. “You intrigued me so much from the outset that I sent you gifts, whilst hiding the fact I was the sender. I made every excuse to see you, even telling Alexander I would come with him to help woo your sister, just so I could see you again. Then every event we attended, you must have noticed I spoke to you and rarely any other.”
She smiled, knowing that was what she had always wanted to believe.
“What happened the other night.” He glanced toward Eliza before stepping even closer to Rebecca. “That kiss we shared –”
“Kiss!?” Eliza snapped, a few feet away.
“Eliza, please,” Rebecca said pleadingly, turning enough to see Eliza was outraged, her hands on her hips.
“You have been keeping secrets,” she said, mockingly glaring at her sister.
“Well, I am not the only one.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Oh, so why was Lord Herberton on bended knee the other day beside you in the garden?” Rebecca’s ploy worked for Eliza lowered her hands and nodded, barely containing her smile.
“You win. Continue, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” Timothy nodded and laughed, before looking back to Rebecca, quickly shedding his laugh and turning serious again. “I meant that kiss to try and declare exactly what I feel for you, I am no wordsmith like you and I find words fail me in the matter.”
“They do?” Rebecca asked, finding her voice barely made any sound at all.
“Let me attempt to put it into words now, because I do not want any more confusion between us. Neither do I ever wish you to glare at me again the way you did yesterday.”
“I did not glare!”
“You did a little,” Timothy said with a small smile, earning a short laugh from her. He glanced at Eliza one last time, clearly nervous to speak his mind in front of another, before turning back to Rebecca.
“What is it you wish to say?” she urged him on, needing to hear the words.
“I once told you I was incapable of love,” he whispered quietly. “Never have I been so glad to be wrong about something in my life.”
