Page 74 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
“I would take all of the ridicule in the world if it meant that I was able to be with you,” Emmeline admitted stubbornly.
Michael smiled down into her eyes. “You are one of the bravest women that I have ever met.”
“My lady,” a voice called out for Emmeline from the back of the manor house.
Emmeline and Michael turned to find Ezra Hardy standing at the garden’s edge.
“Mr. Hardy,” Emmeline called back in surprise. “I did not realize that you were to join us from London.”
“It was not the original plan, my lady, but news came to the townhouse, and I knew that you would wish to hear it with all haste,” Mr. Hardy informed her.
“What is it? Is it news from my solicitor?” Emmeline asked hopefully.
“Indeed, it is,” Mr. Hardy confirmed. “He has sent a letter.” He handed the folded paper to Emmeline, as he bowed respectfully to both her and Michael.
Emmeline took the paper with trembling hands, her eyes searching out Michael’s. “It is the solicitor’s seal,” she confirmed.
“Do you wish to have a moment alone to read it?” Michael asked, wishing to be supportive, no matter what the letter revealed.
Emmeline shook her head. “I would like for you to be with me.”
Michael nodded in understanding and moved closer to her side. “I am here.”
Emmeline smiled up at him appreciatively. She broke the wax seal and opened the paper. Inside was a brief message.
Lord Norman Livingston, Marquess of Worthington, is dead. He succumbed to illness whileimprisoned. I have confirmed the body with my own eyes. You are now a widow, and free to do as you will.
“He is dead,” Emmeline breathed, a cacophony of emotions descending upon her. “My husband is dead.”
She handed Michael the letter, and he scanned it for himself.
“I am free.”
Michael’s heart pounded fiercely in his ears as he read the words thrice, before dropping the letter to the ground and taking her up into his arms and kissing her soundly.
“Marry me,” he breathed against her lips. “Society and mourning be damned. Marry me here, now, forever.” He pulled the ring that he had carried for over five years out of his pocket and held it above her ring finger. “Marry me and make me the happiest man on this earth.”
“Yes!” Emmeline exclaimed as she allowed him to place the ring on her finger, then threw her arms around his neck in jubilation. Michael swung her around and around in celebration, both of them laughing as they had done all those years ago together as children.
“What is going on out here?” Theodocia Frampton emerged from the house, followed by Emmeline’s friend, Louisa, who had accompanied Emmeline to the country from London.
“I have asked your daughter to marry me,” Michael announced proudly. “And she has consented to be my wife.”
Louisa squealed and came forward to embrace Emmeline. “I am so very happy for you both!”
“That is perfectly lovely, young man, but she is wed to another, as you well know,” Theodocia reminded him, undaunted by the excitement of others.
“Not anymore,” Emmeline replied, bending to pick up the letter from the ground and handing it to her mother. “Norman Livingston is dead. It has been confirmed by our family solicitor.”
Theodocia read the letter and looked up at her daughter. Nodding, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her gaze to Michael. “You have my blessing.”
Michael nearly fell over in shock. “Thank you,” he murmured, not knowing what else to do or say.
Theodocia nodded as she handed the letter back to Emmeline. “I came out to inform you and your sister that we have a guest awaiting us in the green drawing room.”
“A guest?” Emmeline questioned.
“One of your father’s associates has come to pay his respects. He has requested to speak with both of you,” Theodocia answered, then turned and reentered the house.
