Marchwood had invited Hally to drive with him to church on Christmas eve in his curricle. All day she tried to sort things out in her head, but all she could do was look forward to sitting beside him, to the time they would spend alone together. Surely she would know what to say to him then, to let him know how full her heart was. Even if she couldn’t marry him.
The snow had melted down to a last few patches here and there, and the rest of the family drove in the family barouche. But now, as Marchwood and Hally drove home, he made a point of allowing the barouche to pass them, and urged his bays to their least energetic efforts. As though even a walk were too much, after a while, when they had come far enough up the drive to see all the candles in the windows, Marchwood drew his team to a stop.
“I think it would be best for me to offer you my present now, Hally, so that you will feel the greatest freedom in answering me as you wish.” He drew a jeweler’s box from the pocket of his greatcoat and opened it to show her the diamond-and-sapphire ring inside. “It’s a family heirloom. My mother wished you to have it, as a keepsake, no matter how you felt about me. But I wish to accompany it with an offer of marriage. I have fallen desperately in love with you, my heart, and nothing will do but to have you as my bride. If you could see your way clear to have me, that is.”
All Hally’s intentions otherwise seemed suddenly to have melted away with the vanishing snow. She could think of nothing but the bursting love for him which filled her heart. Hally allowed him to slip the sparkling ring on her finger. Her eyes rose to his and her hand came up to touch his cheek. “Oh, I do love you, Frederick. And I would be honored to be your wife.”
The viscount, grinning outrageously, crushed her against his chest. Then he tilted her face up to his and brought his lips down to meet hers. Again the most luscious of sensations raced through her body, tingling all the way from her head to her toes. He tasted of fresh cold air and the warmth of love and the excitement of sensuality. Hally’s response was rich with her new-found appreciation of this delightful form of expression. She had never realized what piquancy, what vitality, what desire there could be in a simple meeting of lips. She discovered that a kiss could make one wish for a great deal more . . .
At length, disheveled and deliriously happy, she was brought to her senses by the jolting of the carriage. Marchwood had lost control of the horses in his distraction and he now laughed and drew them to a halt again. Hally, trying once more to bring some reason to her life, said, “But think, Frederick! There is still Brigid to be taken into account. And my father, and John, and Ralph. I know they can manage without me, but I do make their lives more comfortable.”
“So you do.” He pressed her fingers to his lips. “Well, let us dispose of these matters in an orderly fashion. Brigid, I think, must come to us part of the year, with Miss Viggan. You will keep her from becoming stuffy and proper, I trust. And your father could come as well, though I think we would do better to visit him here, as he is most comfortable in his own home. Seeing you settled would please him more than anything. Now, John. There I believe you have been missing the drama that has been going on beneath your nose.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, there may be no proper understanding yet, but if my eyes do not deceive me, John and Mary Rose are intent on making a match of it. John may be a little young as yet, but ...”
“John and Mary Rose!” Hally looked back over the past week and realized that she had indeed been blind to their courtship, being far too busy with her own. “Well, my word. The Nichols probably will put no rub in the way, though Mary Rose could do a great deal better, I dare say.”
“How unflattering of you to say so!” Marchwood laughed and drew her into the circle of his arms. “And I think I have Ralph convinced that school would be just the place for him.” He cocked his head at her. “Have I covered everything?”
Hally sighed and snuggled closer. “If you please, tell me again that you love me.”
“I will be happy to tell you every day for the rest of your life,” he promised.
Hally sighed. “Before you came, I thought things would go on the way they were forever. That nothing would change, and that I would be quite content. How is it possible that everything has changed, and yet I’m happier than I have ever been?”
“As I am,” he agreed. Then he motioned toward the Hall with its dancing candlelight and said, “Perhaps it’s the season, my love. The season of miracles.”
Copyright © 1993 by Elizabeth Rotter
Originally published by Signet in A Regency Christmas [0451177231]
Electronically published in 2009 by Belgrave House
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.
The Viscount and the Hoyden Page 6
