by Allison Lane
“Of marriage?”
She shook her head.
“Of intimacy?” he tried, shocked when she agreed. “Why? You have never shown the least hesitancy at my touch. Did Bounty frighten you?”
“He couldn’t.”
It took him a moment to work it out. He should have known it earlier. Despite the passion that flared so easily between them, she still retained that air of innocence. And Bounty had been like a father – not a lover.
A tear rolled down her cheek. “He was so ashamed of his lack. He taught me so much – about life, about love. But he could never teach me that.”
“Shh, darling,” he murmured soothingly in her ear. “He was a wonderful man, whose worth was in no way impaired. And you needn’t fear I would ever mention it,” he added, reading her eyes. “Is that why you never wanted to remarry?”
She nodded. “I’ve had offers enough – of both kinds.”
“And turned them down out of loyalty to Bounty.”
“And because they weren’t you,” she admitted at last.
Nicholas tightened his arms. “I will never again hurt you, Diana. And I will honor Bounty forever. He kept you safe for me. Do you love me?”
“Yes.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I never stopped. Something that powerful doesn’t go away, does it?”
“Never. So, please. Marry me.”
“Yes.”
“Soon,” he murmured, kissing her under her ear. She had always been particularly sensitive in that spot.
“Very soon,” she agreed, laughing. “We haven’t much choice. I offered Charles my house until he sails. It looks like Doctor’s Commons will be doing a brisk business in special licenses.”
“I already bought one.”
“Arrogant, arrogant.” But love threaded her tone.
“We’ll wed tomorrow, then stay here until Charles sails. You will want to spend time with Chloe.”
She nodded.
“But I don’t care to attend any balls,” he added, kissing her face. “I’m not ready to smile while Lady Hardesty gloats.”
“She has often sung your praises – even while she shoved other men at me,” murmured Diana. “I wonder if Harry said something.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “That rogue! No wonder he never mentioned his wife to me – we kept in touch, and I last saw him only two years before he died. You told him everything. He must have recognized that I’d fallen top over tail in love with you, so he arranged to push us together after he was gone.”
She joined his laughter.
“Dinner, my lord,” said the unflappable Wiggs from the doorway. He was gone before Diana could rise.
Nicholas helped her up, then pulled a ring from his waistcoat pocket. “The Woodvale betrothal ring,” he confirmed, sliding it onto her finger. “I should accompany this with a speech – which I will treat you to later. But it occurs to me that the luckiest break of my life was when you declared your love that summer.”
“Why is that?” She busied herself fixing his cravat.
“I had pushed my control too far that day,” he admitted, pinning her hair back in place. “In another minute or two I’d have had you, right there. Only shock at your words pulled me back. I would have married you, of course, but we could only have lived with my father. Bitterness would have turned our love to hate. It’s been lonely these past years, but we can now look forward to a lifetime of happiness – together.”
“Amen.”
Linking arms, they exchanged one last kiss before heading for the dining room where twelve satisfied guests awaited them.
Copyright © 1998 by Susan Ann Pace
Originally published by Signet Regency (0451197062)
Electronically published in 2006 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
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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.
