Page 45 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
He was running, now, too, striding towards her. It seemed to take forever to get to him. It seemed that her legs could not carry her fast enough towards him.
But eventually, they met, almost colliding in their haste to get to one another. He picked her up, as if she were a doll, twirling her around in the air. She laughed breathlessly, her heart pounding in her chest. He laughed, too, a joyous sound that seemed to fill the air.
Finally, he put her down, his arms still around her, gazing down at her intently. She gazed up at him, her eyes eagerly taking in every little thing about him. The black stubble, just visible, beneath his jawline. The circles of weariness beneath his eyes. The way that he was smiling, a little wearily, but with relief, as well.
“You came,” she said, breathless, feeling almost like a blathering fool.
“I came,” he said, laughing again as he gazed at her.
“How is Ben?” she asked, reaching up, to stroke his face.
“He is much better,” he said, his smile widening. “He got up todayand was running around, tearing around the nursery like a spinning top. The physician saw him this afternoon, and said that there was no need to attend him any longer.” He paused. “No need for me not to come to you, at long last, my Hetty. Oh, it feels like it has been years since I last saw your face …”
She gasped, her eyes filling with tears. “It has been exactly the same for me! I almost felt like I could not remember your face, anymore, even though it is etched upon my mind, for all of eternity …”
They kissed, then, lingeringly. His lips felt like coming home. When at last the kiss ended, she clung to him, burying her face into his chest. She never wanted to let him go.
He pulled back, staring at her, oddly. “Hetty,” he said, in a stiff, almost formal voice. “There is something that I need to say to you.” He paused. “Something that I need to ask you …”
“Well, what is it?” she said with a laugh, still breathless with happiness.
He suddenly knelt down on one knee, taking her hand. “I know that I have already asked for your hand in marriage,” he said, his voice thready with nervousness. “But I have not done it properly. Not at all. You deserve a proper proposal …”
Her heart soared, and her eyes filled with tears as she gazed downupon him.
“Henrietta Arnold,” he said, in a quiet voice, his eyes intensely green. “Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?”
She couldn’t help it, then. The tears started to stream down her face. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.
This man. This man, who had waited so patiently for her to fall in love with him. This man, who claimed that he had loved her from the moment he had laid eyes upon her, all those years ago. This man, who had stood by her side, during the darkest period of her life, while she had tried to push him away in her pain, never giving up on her, or their love. This man, who had vowed he would wait for her for years, if necessary. For the rest of his life.
This man was the real thing. This man had given her the world. This man had given her back her life.
How she loved him. How she would love him forever.
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head. “Yes, yes, yes!”
At that moment, there was a large crack of thunder, so close that Della yelped in distress. The rain started pouring down, soakingthem. He leapt to his feet. They were both laughing so hard that they could barely breathe.
“What?” he yelled. “What did you say?”
“I said yes,” she yelled back, laughing harder.
He kissed her, deliriously, hungrily, as if the rain was not pelting down upon them, plastering their hair to their scalps, soaking them to the core. After a few moments, they slowly parted, staring at each other.
“You had better get used to this,” he yelled, wiping the rain from his eyes. “I have heard that it rains a lot in Scotland.” He paused. “The carriage is waiting to take us there. Right now.”
She laughed harder, almost delirious with joy, gazing down at her sodden gown. “Do we have time to change?”
He grinned. “Yes. But don’t tarry. I cannot wait to make you my wife, Miss Henrietta Arnold. We must set off before I lose my mind entirely …”
He grabbed her hand, and they started to run through the rain together, jumping the rapidly forming puddles on the ground. Dellalooked like a drowned rat, leaping around, almost chasing her own tail. They were almost to the gate. She could see Mama’s face, a pale oval, peering through the back window, looking worried.
She stopped suddenly, letting go of his hand.
“What?” he yelled, gazing at her.
She took a deep breath. “There is something else that I need to do.”
