Page 80 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
Footsteps approached and the door opened to reveal the vicar.
“I thought I heard movement,” he said. “Are you warm enough?”
Nodding, she struggled to her feet, and he rushed toward her, taking her arm and steering her back to the sofa.
“You’re still here,” she said as he placed the blanket over her knees.
“I’m here for as long as you wish it, but you only need say the word and I shall leave.”
She reached for his hand. “I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. “Not ever.”
Hope flared in his eyes, and he leaned toward her. She let her gaze fall to his mouth—his soft, full lips, always curved in a gentle smile.
She parted her lips in invitation, and he moved closer, his breath a warm caress on her skin.
Then he withdrew, and she swallowed her disappointment at the sense of loss.
“Tea,” he said.
Then he stood and exited the parlor, returning with a tray laden with tea things.
“You made tea?”
He smiled, setting the tray on a table. “I thought you might be in need of some.”
“B-but it’s not…”
“Not what?” he asked. “Not a task for a man? I am not such a man as to be incapable of making tea. Please do not think any less of me for knowing how to navigate my way around your kitchen.”
“On the contrary, I assure you, vicar,” she said. “It makes you more of a man in my eyes—the best of men.”
“Then my life is complete.”
“How so?”
He approached her and kneeled beside the sofa, taking her hands. “For you to consider me the best of men—I can ask for nothing more, except…”
He colored and lowered his gaze.
“Vicar?” she said, then curled her fingers around his. “Andrew?”
“I-I dare not hope to ask, for it is my heart’s desire.”
Her own heart swelled with hope, and she dipped her head to kiss his knuckles. He winced as she ran her lips over his bruised flesh—the evidence of his courage in defending her.
“Have you not said in your sermons, vicar, that those who are prepared to risk a loss to themselves must always consider the merits of such risks if the rewards are bountiful?”
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Do you recalleverythingI’ve said from my pulpit, Etty? Am I so fortunate as to have secured your attention and interest? Might I dare to ask that I have secured your heart also?”
She caught her breath at the intensity in his eyes. “Why yes, vicar,” she whispered. “I believe that you may dare.”
Doubt clouded his expression, as if he still feared her refusal. So unlike he was to the hard, impenetrable men of her previous acquaintance—the bright, shining lords who ruled over theton, who thought nothing of crushing hearts and ruining reputations, who considered the women desperate for marriage to be their playthings.
But in being the very last man at whom thetonwould look, he was the only man with whom she could entrust her heart—and her life.
“Etty, I…” He hesitated, and she placed her finger on his lips.
“Hush, my love,” she said. “There’s no need to ask—nor is there need for me to give you my answer in words. Why tell you that I return your feelings when I canshowyou?”
