Page 93 of Better Love Next Time
“You deserve the lowest of the lowest,” she threw back.
His footsteps pursued her. “Using half of my funds at the goldsmith’s and the money waiting at my father’s, I hope to be an official shipwright at the old age of twenty-one. Of course, I will have to endure my father’s presence whilst retrieving said money, but…”
He was suddenly walking alongside her. “You’re not stopping, are you?”
“No.”
He draped his coat over her shoulders. She wanted to throw it to the ground, but the cold had seeped into her bones and she deserved to be warm. And he to be cold. Yes. He deserved it.
She approached theFairyand shoved her arms into his coat, ignoring the scent of oranges and spice drifting up to fill her senses. She ripped at the tarpaulin, managing to uncover the bow.
“May I finish my letter?” he asked, watching her struggle as she cleared the tarp away.
“I don’t care.” She did care. She cared too much.
She dug her heels into the sodden bank and gripped the bow. He bent beside her, his shoulder brushing hers and with one shove, theFairyheaved into the water. He planted her next to Daisy’s pen and, as the boat floated away, leapt with a sailor’s grace past her.
He sat wide-legged in front her, his thighs bracketing hers. “And that brings me to the hardest par?—”
“IsaidI don’t care.”
“Never interrupt your opponent when he’s making a mistake. As I was saying, the hardest part. Kitty, I am sorry. You have shown great courage and are deserving of a worthier man than me.”
Her throat ached. “Please don’t,” she said, her voice wavering. “Just let us end this. I know how you feel about me.”
“Do you?” He scooted her closer. She had no strength to pull away. He drew the pins from her hair and combed the unruly curls with his fingers. He traced circles at her nape.
“Stop. I know what I am to you, and it was wonderful. But Father Dunlevy?—”
He captured her trembling mouth in a deep, searching kiss. Breaking the kiss, he cupped her face. “Kitty Babbington, I love you.”
She shuddered. “You?—”
“And I am sorry for the uncertainty I have caused you. For not writing you for 484 days. For not saying the words you wished to hear, that were in my heart. And so, I close this letter as yours, in marriage, Julian.”
The ugliest sob escaped her. “What?”
“Yours.” He nudged her nose. “In marriage.”
“Y-You are…” Blinded by tears, she swiped at her eyes. “Proposing to me?”
“Yes.”
She hiccupped. “W-When did you decide to propose?”
“You wish for a detailed retelling?” He sighed and turned the gold ring upon her finger. “When I removed Anthony from your side and left you alone on the settee. I’m a stubborn bastard, aren’t I? Striving for originality. Now, what is your answer?Please don’t make me wait 484 days. I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it.”
She sobbed on his shoulder, unprepared for the wrenching in her chest. “D-Dearest Julian. I do not know how to say this.”
He lifted her chin. “A simple yes will suffice.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yours in… in hideous crying.”
“Actually, you cry pretty and in tune.”
“This is the happiest day of my life.”
He drew her onto his lap and wiped her face. “I promise you we shall have many more happiest days. Many more.”
