Page 110 of A Touch of Charm
He jerked his head back and gave her a shocked look.
“If there might be a baby, why not make it a certainty.”
*
Andre’s body wasinstantly hard, but it was his heart that remained soft.
“Not like this,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on Thea’s lips. “Not a bastard.”
She blinked as though she’d understood.
“When?” Her question was but a whisper.
“Thea, you deserve the wedding of a princess, not a small ceremony.”
Andre looked at Thea, his chest tightening at the sight of her. The delicate flush on her cheeks, the way her lips parted as though she had words she wasn’t quite ready to say—it was all too much and yet exactly what he needed. He reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, the simple touch grounding him, bringing a calm he hadn’t felt in years.
“Thea,” he murmured, his voice soft but weighted with a thousand unspoken promises. She met his gaze, and the world seemed to fall away. No grand ballroom, no watchful eyes, only her—the woman who had unraveled every broken part of him and pieced him back together.
Her brow furrowed slightly, a question lingering in her eyes, a quiet vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see. He responded the only way he could, his hands lifting to gently cradle her face as though she held the very essence of his being. “You make me whole,” he whispered, his voice steady and honest. “I didn’t think I’d find my family again. Or myself. But then you came into my life, and everything shifted.”
Thea blinked, her expression softening into something unreadable yet breathtakingly beautiful. He leaned in then, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was tender, heartfelt, but filled with all the love that had swelled and swelled until it could no longer remain contained. It wasn’t a kiss to stake a claim or make a vow. It was a kiss meant to saythank you.
Thank you for saving me, for showing me what life could truly be.
When they broke apart, Thea rested her forehead against his, her breath mingling with his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, as though even the air around them was holding its breath, unwilling to shatter the perfection of this tiny, infinite universe they had created between them.
“You’ve given me everything I didn’t know I needed,” Andre said finally, his voice almost trembling under the weight of his emotions. His heart was full, so full he wondered how it could possibly contain it all. “Because of you, I found not just my family, but myself. And I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to give that back to you.”
Her lips curved into a smile that sent warmth coursing through him, thawing even the deepest, coldest corners of his once-lonely heart. “Andre,” she whispered softly, her hand brushing his cheek. No other words followed, but she didn’t need them. Everything they had been through, every unspoken truth, was in her eyes.
Andre kissed her hand then, reverently as though she were sacred, and drew her closer. The music swelled downstairs, but nothing could muffle the joy in their hearts as they moved through the dance, their own rhythm took over, unhurried and timeless. For the first time in his life, Andre wasn’t looking ahead or behind. He was there, present, with her.
Thea’s head rested lightly on his chest, and Andre closed his eyes, feeling her heartbeat against his. It was steady, sure—just like his love for her. For the first time, he didn’t feel the ache of something missing. His family was there with him. Thea was there, with him.
And for the first time, he felt whole.
Epilogue
Dearest Miss Thea,
I trust this letter finds you in excellent health and spirits. My husband and I wish to extend our deepest gratitude for your kindness and good care of our dear Mary during our prolonged absence. It is a great comfort to know that she is under your watchful and affectionate eye, thriving as she does in such a warm and nurturing care. Your attentiveness brings us both great peace of mind, as no other arrangement could have been more suitable or delightful for our Mary.
It is with much joy and anticipation that we give our consent for Mary to attend your forthcoming nuptials. The thought of her partaking in such a splendid event, in the company of so much happiness, has brought a smile to our faces. She wrote to us in a letter, full of anticipation of your wedding with an enthusiasm that is simply heartwarming, and we are certain it will be a most memorable and joyous occasion.
My husband and I grieve only that we cannot be present to witness what I am assured will be an affair of unmatched elegance and beauty. May the day bring you nothing but bliss and herald the beginning of a matrimonial union as harmonious and fulfilling as ours, dear Thea.
Believe me to be,
Yours most sincerely,
Mrs. Adelaide White
Thea folded the letter with care, her heart swelling with affection at Mrs. White’s kind words. She rose and stepped out of the sitting room at Cloverdale House, the sound of distant voices guiding her steps down the long, quiet corridor but Cloverdale was never short of distractions, especially when Mary was around.
She found the girl in Andre’s treatment room, sitting perched on a high stool. A piece of parchment rested on her lap, and she was diligently sketching with a pencil. Beside her stood Andre gesturing to the skeleton hanging against the wall—a rather macabre but educational addition to the room. He must have brought it from the practice on Harley Street so Mary could study it again.
“And this,” Andre was saying as he pointed to a broad, curved bone, “is the largest bone in the human body. The hip bone, or as we say in Latin, theos coxae.”
