Page 50 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
‘Oh, hangyour letter! Forgive me, but your notions as to how I think and feel aren’t worth the paper you wrote them on.’
To her amazement, he pulled off his hat, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. His patience had clearly evaporated; he looked like a man on the edge of his endurance, a state that, judging by their concerned expressions, had also been noticed by a pair of elderly matrons passing by the front gate.
‘Damn it all, Jane,’ he growled in a tone she was alarmed to find extremely attractive. ‘I never loved you because of your face. I loved your face because it was part ofyou. You may have some scars now, but what is that to me? If this is the face Jane Stockwell possesses then this is the one I love, and if anybody has anything to say about it, I am not inclined to listen—not now nor at any point in the many joyful years together I hope we’ll have, if you would just stop thinking you know what’s best for me.’
He pinned her to the spot with a powerful glance. ‘Do youwantto marry me? Yes or no?’
Her heart catapulted up into her throat. She’d never seen him so heated, his startling declaration taking a hammer to the wall she’d thought necessary to build between them. With every word he tore down another brick, her hesitations shrinking from the punishing blows he rained down upon them, but still she didn’t dare believe it was safe to give way.
‘Yes. But—’
‘No buts. I want to marry you, and you want to marry me, and now that’s out in the open there’s really nothing more to be said.’
He sounded slightly breathless. His eyes were alive, however, alight with triumphant hope, and Jane knew she didn’t have the strength left to resist.
On the other side of the ironwork fence, the inquisitive matrons’ walk had slowed to a crawl. They were all but craning their necks to watch whatever drama was unfolding in Maybury Place’s front garden, and on any other occasion Jane would have hurried away from their stares.
This time was different.
Duncan hardly blinked as she reached hesitantly upwards. He didn’t seem to want to miss even a fraction of a second, every thread of his focus fixed on her trembling hand.
Even as her fingertips inched towards her bonnet she was assailed by a barrage of doubts. The hurtful conversation she’d overheard in the park the day before played again, trying to persuade her to reconsider, but now she wasn’t alone in beating it back. Duncan stood in front of her as immovable as a rock, willing her on with the ghost of a smile, and her entire world shifted as she saw the unfeigned pride in his eyes.
She heard the two women mutter to each other as she slid the bonnet from her head, her face laid bare to both their curiosity and the winter’s chill. Probably they were speculating as to why the left side of her countenance was so marred by faded red welts, but Jane realised she didn’t have to care. The handsome man coming towards her was the only thing she had any interest in, his arms outstretched, ready and eager to gather her in, and it was an unspeakable effort to hold him off with one upraised hand.
‘Wait. There isonething more that must be said.’
Duncan stopped, obediently obeying her flat palm, aside from one hand that crept around her waist. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his composure; his grip was firmer than any calm man’s would be and she felt a cascade of sparks glitter down her spine at the urgency of his touch.
‘What would that be, Jane?’ he murmured, his voice so low and intimate it made her wilt. ‘You’re worried what someone else entirely irrelevant thinks? Perhaps the Prince Regent, or the man who delivers my coal?’
‘No. That’s not what I was going to say.’
‘Then what?’
He had subtly drawn her closer, her hand now resting on his chest, and she felt the wild leaping of his heart beneath his coat. If she lifted her chin she’d be close enough to rise on her tiptoes and kiss him, and when she looked up at him she saw the same thought cross his mind.
‘Just that I love you. That’s all.’
‘That’s all?’
He peered down at her incredulously, and then a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach at his disbelieving laugh. ‘There’s nothingthat’s allabout it. Did you know I’ve been waiting years to hear that?’
‘Shall I say it again then? Just to make sure?’
‘In a minute. There’s something else I’d like to do first, and I don’t think it’ll leave you with much chance to speak.’
He bent his head, his lips almost touching hers. They were out in public in broad daylight, a small but scandalised audience snatching glances from the pavement, but somehow neither factor seemed much of an obstacle. His hand was securely on her waist and the other one snaking round to curl deliciously in her now uncovered hair, and her eyes drifted closed as she prepared to be carried into bliss.
‘To be clear, though. You’ll marry me? You accept?’
His mumble grazed her mouth, its warmth sending another ripple through her. A deep yearning was building, his kiss so tantalisingly close yet still out of reach, and she had to steady herself before she replied.
Fortunately, she had a firm, solid chest to lean against.
‘I never expected to enjoy Yuletide again after all the sad things that have happened at this time of year,’ she whispered, her eyes still closed as she surrendered herself to his dependable hold, ‘but now… You’ve given me the best gift I ever could have wished for. Yes, Duncan. I accept.’
