Page 57 of An Amiable Foe
“I know.” Marianne traced her toe in the dirt. “I have already informed her of as much. So Joe told you where I was?”
“Yes. He saw you ride off with Miss Belford and was able to relieve my fears about you having completely disappeared off the face of the earth. I would not like that, you know.” He leaned over and kissed her on the head.
“Because you love me?” she asked shyly.
“Because I do,” he confirmed. “I don’t suppose I can hope for your admitting to returning those feelings?”
“Hmm.” Marianne scrunched up her nose but could not refrain from smiling. “As a matter of fact, I am afflicted with quite a similar sentiment, and I believe I have been for longer than I realized.”
“Love?” he asked hopefully.
“Mm.” Marianne nodded, blushing. She was unable to look at him just yet when avowing the deepest of feelings, even if he had done so first. Still, even facing forward, she was almost certain he was smiling.
She heard the warmth in his voice when he teased, “You must know how relieved I am. Otherwise I might begin to wonder if you’d accepted my suit only that you might become mistress of Brindale once again.”
Marianne shot him a glance, wide-eyed. “Do you know, it hadn’t yet crossed my mind. Therefore, I think you may safely assume that I am indeed afflicted with a case of love.”
“Good. I should hate to suffer alone.”
After a few minutes of blissful silence, Perry pulled away to look at her more closely.
“Is that a new gown? And your hair is styled differently. It’s all quite fetching. I hardly dared address my proposal to one so elegant as you, but I gathered my courage at last.” He nudged her from the side. “Although my knees were positively knocking.”
Marianne laughed out loud, something she hardly remembered doing in the last ten years of her solitary life at Brindale.
“Stop teasing, Mr. Osborne, and kiss me.”
He stopped teasing—and he did.
EPILOGUE
Perry woke before dawn and attempted to fall back asleep, but to no avail. Today was the day he was to marry the woman he loved—the woman he would never have chosen for himself if he had been able to do so in a cool, rational manner. The woman he would have raged against Cupid over if his logic had been able to prevail. But it did not. And for once, he was glad.
He had a full hour to himself, lying in bed and reflecting on his future. He would marry a woman who reminded him of what mattered most in life. Not a visible place in high society, but a secure place in one’s own society. He would protect her from all harm and help her to see that she would never be alone again.
He had begun to care for Brindale and its inhabitants and projects the way Marianne did, but now they would be able to work together to bring the projects to completion. She had let him know about her uncle’s letter that Miss Fife had hidden from her and about her unexpected inheritance that they decided would go toward continuing the castle repairs. Brindale would come to life again under Marianne’s care. It was hers. It had always been hers, and now it would be theirs.
It was time Perry began to dress for his wedding. He had just buttoned his shirt when a knock came on the door. Matley had left him to get hot water for shaving, so he supposed it was someone else. His uncle to come give his blessing? Lord Steere had arrived two days before, grumbling that although he could not approve of the match, Perry was his heir and he would do his duty by him.
After the betrothal, Perry had gone to Lord Steere in person to announce his upcoming wedding and insisted his uncle would see that not only was she perfect for him, but that she would make a perfect baroness one day. He was sure his uncle was blinded by appearances, the same way Perry had been. Lord Steere had only harrumphed, but Perry quite thought that after a grand-nephew or two, his uncle would be singing a different tune. He cared about the barony and its continuation above all.
On the other side of the door was his mother. She stepped in and looked at him in approval, then laid a hand on his cheek. “My dear boy. What a happy day this is.”
He was glad someone thought so. “Did you spend time with Marianne last night as you promised?”
“I did. She asked me if I thought the color she chose for the wedding would be acceptable, before peppering me with questions about whether I thought her hair might not be quite the thing, or whether her gown fit well enough. Poor girl. For one who grew up in such a fine castle and has much to recommend her in looks and character, she is lacking confidence in her appearance.”
Perry stepped back, smiling fondly at his mother. “It is understandable. I was there to witness her first public appearance, which did not go well. Her gown was unfashionable and fit poorly, and she fell in front of many people. I think that must be what is behind her fears.”
“Ah. That is reasonable then. But she has nothing to fear today.” Mrs. Osborne assessed him, a smile hovering on her lips. “Perhaps I should allow you to finish dressing—”
A knock interrupted the rest of her words, and Perry bid the person to enter. Matley stepped confidently through the door, and upon seeing Perry’s mother, bowed.
“When shall I return to assist you, sir?”
“Give us just five more minutes, Matley, will you?” his mother asked in a soft voice.
The valet nodded, stepped back, and closed the door, and she faced to Perry. “I came mostly to have one more moment with my son before he leaves to attach himself to another.”
