Page 47 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
“What encouragement did you give me that you might be amenable to such a connection?” Zachary asked, releasing her wrist. “You were keen to marry and marry quickly, and you sought me out for—”
Evangeline placed her finger against his lips before her listening aunt could hear anything she should not. “You never once gave me reason to believe you might be inclined to marry me,” she said quietly. “I thought you did not care for me in that way.”
“Not care for you in that way?” His laugh was both bitter and angry. “Evangeline, what man could know you as I do and not love you?”
This time, her world really did stop. Her heart lurched in her chest, freezing her lungs. She was incapable of doing anything but looking up at his face, tracing every familiar feature with her gaze and waiting for the joke to follow.
He loved her.
Zachary loved her.
“Are you truly so shocked?” he asked, but his voice was tender now, and so was the hand that stroked her face. “Can you really believe you are so unlovable that no man could feel this way about you?”
“But you—”
“I did not want to encourage rejection by revealing my feelings, but if you would be amenable…” Once again, he trailed his fingers along her cheek, leaving a path of heat behind them. “If you would do me the honor of becoming my wife, Evangeline, let me assure you of the depth of my affection.”
This didn’t feel real. She hadn’t anticipated that he could care for her—and especially not like this. Not when marrying him would solve their problems, especially considering he already knew about her father.
She had been so certain her marriage would be a cold, unaffectionate thing, made to save her family rather than for love of her husband.
To have both…
She gathered her composure and pulled away slightly, offering him her hand. “You must ask me properly.”
“I have just confessed I love you. What more do you want from me?” She nodded at the ground, and he knelt before her, eyes heating as he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Do you like me like this, Evangeline?” he asked, something wicked in his voice now. “Do you like seeing me on my knees before you?”
Truth be told, shedid—the sight evoked some long-dormant desires—but the last thing she wanted was for him to know that at this present moment.
“Ask me,” she said. “Ask me properly, and I shall give my answer.”
Aunt Dorothea let out a small cry over Zachary’s shoulder where she still stood, her handkerchief clutched to her face. “Surely you cannot be considering marrying him,” she said, finally finding her feet and hurrying forward. “Evangeline, consider. We know him to be a monster.”
“Aunt—”
“The Earl offered you his hand,” she continued, not even looking at Zachary as his brows descended low over his eyes. “You may be a Countess which is better than a Marchioness, my love, even if the position is not so great, and—”
“Aunt Dorothea!” Evangeline exploded, holding up her hand and stopping her aunt’s words mid-flow. “I beg you would allow me this moment of privacy. I have no intention of marrying the Earl of Riffy, and I would ask you to tell him so. Now go, please.”
“But—”
“I must beg for this opportunity to ask for your niece’s hand in marriage,” Zachary said, a note of danger in his words. “If you do not grant me this opportunity—”
“Go, Aunt!” Evangeline pushed her poor, well-meaning aunt back in the direction of the house. “I shall be there shortly, and I shall explain all.”
Seeing she was not to be heeded, Dorothea hurried away from them, using the handkerchief in a way that suggested she was, once again, crying.
Evangeline sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “She means well,” she said after a moment when the tug on her hand reminded her precisely what her aunt had interrupted. “She merely wants to ensure my happiness.”
“That is what I, too, wish to ensure if only I am given an opportunity to do so.”
“Then proceed. There can be no further interruptions.”
Zachary kissed her knuckles, one by one, awakening that now-familiar warmth inside her. “Evangeline,” he said, looking up at her with eyes that so resembled the warm summer sky, she almost gasped. “I loved you before I even knew what love is. I have craved you with every breath since long before. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes,” Evangeline said, happiness and tears obscuring her voice. “Of course, I will. Now come up here and kiss me.”
To the surprise of everyone watching from the windows, the Marquess stood and kissed Evangeline with such enthusiasm that Mr. Trimly averted his dear Emily’s eyes.
