Page 46 of The Duke Who Dared Me
“Once?”She hesitated for a long moment.“You hurt me.”
“I’ll spend a lifetime making it right.”
Verity’s fingers curled around the paper.“You still owe me a proper proposal.”
He dropped to one knee, right there in the street.“Verity Baxter.Marry me.Challenge me, best me, and kiss me into submission for the rest of our days.”
She laughed.
A real one, bright and delighted and absolutely exasperated.
“You are insufferable,” she whispered.
“But I’m yours.And I promise I will love you.If you want me and marriage, you can have it.But I want it to be your choice, darling.”
She reached out and pulled him up by his lapel, then threw her arms around his neck.“I think we both win, don’t you?”
And this time, she didn’t let go.
EPILOGUE
One YearLater
Gainesford Hall, Kent
One year on, the Duchess of Tunstall is said to spend her mornings rescuing wild creatures and her evenings taming only one: her husband.
- The Polite Observer
The stallion was magnificent.
And entirely unmanageable.At least, according to every groom who had dared venture near him.His black coat gleamed like Alistair’s finest Hessian boots in the summer sun, muscles coiled and restless, nostrils flaring with indignant pride.The animal wanted no hand, no harness, no master.
Which made him Verity’s favorite sort.
She moved slowly into the paddock, skirts brushing the grass.The stallion’s eyes followed her, suspicious, his ears flicking forward and back.
“Hello, handsome boy.”
From the fence line, she spotted Alistair watching her.He should be used to the sight of her by now, but he still held this awe in his eyes for her that made her heart flutter.They had been married a year now, and in that year, she had tamed, or at least befriended, every difficult beast brought to the duke’s latest venture at Gainesford Hall, where he rescued injured and ill-tempered horses.
Each time, the grooms shook their heads and declared it impossible.And each time, Verity proved them wrong.
“You are determined to shorten my life,” he called out.
Verity did not turn.“Don’t start.”
“I never have a chance….”
She ducked her head to hide her smile.“You’re thinking it loudly enough that even the stallion can hear you.”
He leaned against the post, sunlight washing over him, his cravat long since abandoned, and his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose fine, corded forearms.She pulled at her dress collar, fighting off the reminder of him lifting her against the wall in the conservatory last evening during the rainstorm.Still, she felt her cheeks heat, and as if he knew, Alistair chuckled.
“How long until you break something important?”
She extended her hand, palm up, her voice a soothing murmur as the stallion’s ears pricked forward.“I don’t know.Guess we’ll find out.”
Alistair’s mouth curved in that wicked way she knew too well.“Reckless disregard for your own safety.”
