Page 35 of The Lady's Guide to Well-Endowed Dukes
He could tell that, behind the curtness of her responses, there was a measure of hurt.
“I’m telling you now. The engagement is broken—more amicably than I could have hoped for. Miss Maitland is extraordinary, in her way. You’d like her, truly.”
“You broke it off?”
“Stella.” This time, when he stepped towards her, she didn’t shrink away. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you; every moment. Not just thinking of you; wanting you.”
“I want to trust you, but all this time…” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “You didn’t come looking for me or send any sort of message. I knew you’d be able to find me. I thought you must prefer to forget everything—as if it never happened. Not to mention hating me for stealing from you.”
He brought one hand to stroke her cheek. “I was so tied up convincing myself you felt nothing for me that I lost sight of the most important part of all.”
“And what was that?” She was looking intently at his lips.
“That I love you.” He put his arms around her, drawing her close. Bending, he brushed his lips to her forehead, then to thearch of her eyebrows and her lids. “I’ve thought of you every day we’ve been apart.”
“And the nights?” she asked huskily.
“Those as well. Definitely the nights.” Finally, he took the kiss he’d been dreaming of, falling into the softness of her, yielding and eager. He gave her all his passion; not just the desire he felt through his body but the yearning in his heart.
When they drew breath, he cradled her face within his hands. “Estela Bongorge, my woman of mystery and untold mischief, will you let me cherish you and protect you, bringing you the same peace that I feel when you’re near? Can I convince you to place your happiness in my hands, from this moment, and forevermore?”
Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the finger where his ring would proclaim her his wife. “Belong to me, Stella. Say you’ll marry me.”
Estela’s breath slowed.
She’d given up believing that he might come for her; had told herself there was no going back. Yet here he was, saying what she hadn’t dared hope. She’d almost convinced herself she didn’t need him—that what she had would be enough. But he was offering her everything, and she was so filled with joy she couldn’t speak.
The ground seemed to fall away beneath her feet, while her bliss lifted her. Was this what the poets meant, when they spoke of being transported by love? She thought she’d experienced all there was, but this was new. She felt strangely young, and vulnerable, and uncertain. Except that, there was one thing she did know for sure.
Rockley was the man she wanted to spend her life with.
Very gently, she nodded.
“My love!” The elation in his eyes said everything. “Whatever you wish is yours. I’m impatient, of course, but the wedding shall be exactly as you choose. We can marry from here, or hold the ceremony at Westminster Abbey if you prefer. The King would be in attendance if that were case, and there would be more to organize, but you would be the most beautiful bride the Abbey has ever seen.”
Jubilation bubbled within her. “A quiet arrangement will suit me perfectly. I don’t need a grand show, or other people’s approval—least of all the King’s. All I want is you—just the two of us.”
Except, that wasn’t entirely true, was it?
There would be not just two, but three.
A slight panic gripped her. This was no way to begin a marriage. She’d been planning to keep the pregnancy from him, and she realized suddenly how terrible that would have been.
“Rockley!” He was bending to kiss her again, but she pushed against his chest. “There’s something you must know, and you may yet hate me—though what I’m going to say isn’t an awful thing. It’s just that I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t think I could.”
He’d always deserved to know. Her fear had kept her from being honest with him; fear that he’d reject her in spite of the child or, worse, act through obligation alone.
Shushing her, he stroked her hair. “Whatever this is, it won’t change my love for you. We’ve both been cock-eyed, but we can face anything together.”
“On the ship, you remember when we…” It was impossible she was blushing! “I don’t know how, although of course I do…” She groaned. “The fact is, a child is coming. Your baby. In about six months. A June baby.” She held her breath.
For a long moment, he said nothing. At least five emotions crossed his features in quick succession.
“A baby!” He gave a whoop.
She hadn’t known he could look so happy, nor that seeing him so would make her own heart swell to bursting. Scooping her under her bottom, he spun her wildly.
“Theo, do stop! You’re making me dizzy—and sloshing the baby about.” Still, she couldn’t help laughing. “I was just telling him how the oranges are even more delicious in the villa gardens on Lake Como, and that we might be taking a journey overseas quite soon to see them. He’ll think we’re crossing the Channel already.”
