Heir to Rowanlea (24 page)

“I see,” he said slowly.

“You must understand I could not come out, especially after I had heard what you were saying, though I did not mean to eavesdrop. But it made me see how deeply you loved her, and I was so angry with her. But she is not really mercenary, Harry.”

“And that is why you have been imagining me to be lovelorn, and attempting those odious schemes to compromise us?”

“I was trying to help!” she said, stung into self-defense.

“Why? You do not like her.”

“But you do.”

“Well, she has rejected me often enough,” he responded, laughing down at her. “She could hardly change her mind unless I asked her again, and that I have no intention of doing, because I have changed my own. I have seen what she is really like these last few weeks, and besides, I have fallen in love properly this time, with someone else, and she I know, will have no thoughts of whether I am to be heir to Rowanlea or not!”

“Not Elizabeth?” Charlotte asked, and her heart soared, only to plummet again as the rest of what he had said sank in. “Is it—is it Amanda Gregory?” she suggested.

“No, you goose! Charlotte, I know I have been a fool, and I hope you’ll forgive me, but until recently I have thought of you as a child, my little cousin who was always game for any prank, and valiant, but a child. I realized how wrong I was almost as soon as you came to London, and I have been able to see how much more lovely, and adorable, and desirable you are than Elizabeth or anyone else I know. I’ve realized, belatedly, that I love you.”

“You can’t mean it! Not me!” Charlotte gasped.

“I can and I do, and I think I always have done, in truth. I only knew it when I saw Richard and the others paying court to you. I was angry and jealous, I’ll admit, when I saw Elizabeth flirting with others, but that was only a blow to my pride, and I soon knew what I felt for her was not love. When it was you, it was so different. The very notion you might prefer Richard to me was agony.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for weeks now, but I did not dare. I had some sort of crazy notion I ought to allow you to finish the season and get to know other men as well, and take my chance along with them. But as you do not seem to fancy any of them, and after so nearly losing you today, I can keep silence no longer! Charlotte, my dear love, have I any hope?”

She stared up at him, unable to believe she was not dreaming. Slowly he pulled her to her feet, and taking her chin in one hand, tilted her face so that he could bend down close to her, his lips only a few inches away from hers.

“Well, my love? Can you not speak? Tell me to go away if I am being presumptuous.”

Convulsively her hands came up and grasped the lapels of his coat, and wordlessly she shook her head. Her eyes were shining and she smiled tremulously at him. With a deep, satisfied sigh, he kissed her, and she clung to him, knowing the hope she had cherished had, miraculously, been fulfilled.

“Well?” he demanded as at last he lifted his lips. “Am I to have a dumb wife? We wouldn’t be able to have many arguments, as we always do, would we?”

She gave a spurt of laughter.

“Harry, I think I’m dreaming!”

“Then so am I,” he said promptly. “Are you just being an abandoned hussy, or does this compliance with my atrocious behavior mean you have accepted my offer?”

“Uncle Henry—mother,” she murmured.

“What of them? I’m sure they will be delighted, but even if they’re not I won’t give you up, my darling, if you want me. Perhaps I had best call again tomorrow, when you have had time to consider and prepare a polite refusal?”

“Harry, you are ridiculous,” she declared, laughing. “Oh, Harry, I did not think you cared for me in the least!”

“Well, I cannot at the moment think of another way of convincing you except to kiss you, but I’d rather hear first that I’m kissing my future wife. I do mean to kiss you again, you see, but I’d feel more virtuous if you’d just say yes first!”

“Oh, yes, please, Harry!” Charlotte murmured, and as his lips came down hard on hers, her hands slid over his shoulders and round his neck, and she surrendered to her happiness.

Neither of them heard the soft click of the door closing as Lady Weare, smiling in great satisfaction, turned to place her fingers on her lips as her brother descended the stairs, and say in a whisper she had something to say to him before they went into the drawing-room.

“For we will have so many plans to make, my lord,” she said with a laugh. “Balls, betrothal parties, weddings! Today’s surprises have not ended, and you ought to be warned!”

Copyright © 1981 by Marina Oliver

Originally published by Ivy/Fawcett (ISBN 0449501752)

Electronically published in 2010 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.