Authors: Christi Caldwell
B00Y3771OO (R) (22 page)
His eyebrows dipped.
“Happy to see you,” she clarified. “I’m merely…”
Rambling. You’re rambling, Eloise
.
Lucien strolled over, impossibly cool and hopelessly elegant with his long, graceful movements. He stopped in front of her with the sofa between them. “May I speak?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t come to apologize,” he added.
Eloise sighed. “I know. You said as—”
“Eloise.”
“Er, right, sorry,” she said on a rush. “You were saying?”
Lucien reached his hand across the space dividing them and cupped her cheek. “I’m not here to apologize because every apology I make will be inadequate and you deserve so much more than that.” She leaned into his caress. The expensive, tailored leather glove cool and soothing upon her skin. “I was a bloody fool,” he said with a directness that widened her eyes. He lowered his hand to his side. “You deserved more from me as a friend. You deserved a better man than me as your husband.” He surveyed the luxurious, mahogany, Chippendale furnishings of the parlor, his gaze lingering upon the large and ornate golden bevel mirror upon the far right wall. “And I’d wager my other arm that you had him in Sherborne.”
Yes, her husband had been good and more than she had deserved. But he’d never been Lucien. She’d not disrespect Colin’s memory with the truth in her heart.
With a distracted movement, he picked up a porcelain shepherdess and turned it over in his hand, studying it. “My father left me property to manage—unentailed land in Kent.”
Eloise tipped her head.
Is this why he’s come?
She wet her lips and searched for the proper reply. “You will do splendidly in taking over the running of that estate,” she said at last. For she did not doubt a moment with his intelligence and strength, he was more capable than any other landowner in the whole of England. And yet, she wished it was
more
that brought him here. Wished it
was
her.
A normally unflappable Lucien set down the shepherdess. The delicate piece wobbled on the table, then righted itself. He dragged his unsteady hand through his hair. “I’ve not come here to speak about the property,” he paused. “Though it seems important you should know of it.” He slashed the air with his hand and knocked the figurine once more. The golden-haired shepherdess tipped and fell on her side, unbroken. Lucien gave his head a shake. “That is, it seemed you should know about my acquisition of the property.” Lucien frowned. “Nor have I come to apologize.” His lips pulled in a grimace. “I am bumbling this.”
She desperately tried to sort through his ramblings. “Bumbling wh—?”
He raised his gaze to hers, silencing her question with the burning intensity in his gray eyes. “I’m here to tell you I love you.”
Her heart froze, suspended. “You…” And then the organ resumed hammering a frantic rhythm. “What?” The word emerged on a halting whisper. Lucien crossed around the sofa and stopped. “I don’t understand.” Because after years of loving him and dreaming for that sentiment returned, she’d long ago given up the hope of it.
The muscles of his throat worked. “You don’t understand because I’ve been a bloody fool.” He lowered his brow to hers. “It took me too long to understand that I love you, Eloise Constance. I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you.” He raised her knuckles to his mouth and brushed a kiss against them. “I just didn’t realize it. I realize it now and know it’s likely too late—”
“No!” The exclamation burst from her.
Eloise’s denial ripped through him. No less than he warranted but still agonizing for what it represented. It had been the height of arrogance to come here and expect she should put aside the freedom she had as a widow to wed a broken, unworthy gentleman such as himself.
With pained reluctance, Lucien released her. “No,” he repeated in deadened tones. He flinched at the regret tinging that one word. He’d not have her feel guilty. He gave a stiff nod and backed away. “Forgive me,” his voice emerged hoarse. “I understood it was unlikely that you should indeed return my sentiments after my years of gross neglect.” He took another step away from her, never removing his gaze from her person. “I will always be your devoted servant and friend.” He bowed. “If you’ll excuse me.” With that, he hurried to the door.
“Is that all you’ll say?” she called out, staying his hasty flight. “You’d just leave?”
Her words jerked him to a stop. His muscles tightened under the folds of his jacket. He turned around and looked questioningly at her. He’d not convince her that he was worthy, because he did not himself believe it—and so he would leave.
Eloise sprinted over. She placed herself between him and the doorway. “You misunderstood me.”
Lucien looked at her probingly. The first stirrings of hope fanned in a heart he’d only recently realized wasn’t deadened. The organ still beat. It beat for Eloise. He spoke slowly. “I misunderstood—?”
“No it is not too late, you great lummox.” The words burst from her lips. “I love you, L-Lucien,” she said. Her voice broke. “I always have.” She smiled tremulously up at him. “I always will.”
Lucien drew in a harsh breath, and momentarily closed his eyes. “You were everything I never knew I needed, Eloise. You were always there and I never saw it.”
She leaned up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his in a slow, gentle kiss. “You see it now,” she whispered. “And that is all that matters.”
She was wrong. What he’d become in the years since their youth mattered. The years had changed him. War had changed him.
But then, hadn’t life changed us both?
“You can love me, even as I come to you missing an arm, a man who has acted as a servant—?”
Eloise touched her fingers to his lips silencing him. “None of that matters.” She moved her palm and pressed it over his heart. “This is what matters. Only this.”
Ah, God. He loved her. He wanted her in his life. For now. Tomorrow. And forever. “Marry me.”
She blinked, retreating a step. “What?” Her hand fluttered about her chest.
He raked his hand through his hair and cursed. “I’m making a bloody mess of this.”
Eloise let her hand fall to her side. Did he imagine the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips?
He cursed. Again. “I’m cursing.” He couldn’t even put to her a proper offer of marriage.
Eloise’s shoulders shook in clear amusement. “Uh, yes. I hear that.” He dropped to a knee. “What are you—?” Her words ended on a gasp.
“I have had three weeks to find the perfect words for you, Eloise, and, even with that, I can’t manage to be what you deserved.” She opened her mouth but he went on, not allowing her to speak those likely contradictory words. “Will you marry me? Marry me because I love you and I’ll spend the remainder of my days showering you with every happiness you deserve.” He frowned. “Though I’m not the same witty young gentleman I once was.” He looked to the pinned up sleeve of his jacket. “Nor am I the young, more pleasing gentleman you likely fell in—”
A breathless laugh escaped her. “Yes, Lucien.”
His heart froze and hope exploded through him. “Yes, I’m not the pleasing gentleman you fell in love with?” He stood slowly. “Or yes, you’ll marry me?”
She looped her arms around his neck and leaned up. “The latter,” she whispered against his mouth.
A smile turned his lips. “I love you, Eloise.” He lowered his mouth to hers and claimed her lips in a gentle, searching kiss.
He was home.
The End
Biography
Christi Caldwell is a USA Today Bestselling author of historical romance novels set in the Regency era. Christi blames Judith McNaught’s “Whitney, My Love,” for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and try her hand at writing romance. She believes the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections and rather enjoys tormenting them before crafting a well-deserved happily ever after!
When Christi isn’t writing the stories of flawed heroes and heroines, she can be found in her Southern Connecticut home chasing around her feisty six-year-old son, and caring for twin princesses-in-training!
Visit
www.christicaldwellauthor.com
to learn more about what Christi is working on, or join her on Facebook at Christi Caldwell Author (for frequent updates, excerpts, and posts about her fun as a fulltime mom and writer) and Twitter
@ChristiCaldwell
(which she is still quite dreadful with).
Other Books by Christi Caldwell
A Danby Novella
Author’s Note: This is a novella that was originally available in A Summons From The Castle (The Regency Christmas Summons Collection). It is being published as an individual novella.
For Lady Alexandra, being the source of a cold, calculated wager is bad enough…but when it is waged by Nathaniel Michael Winters, 5th Earl of Pembroke, the man she’s in love with, it results in a broken heart, the scandal of the season, and a summons from her grandfather – the Duke of Danby.
To escape Society’s gossip, she hurries to her meeting with the duke, determined to put memories of the earl far behind. Except the duke has other plans for Alexandra…plans which include the 5th Earl of Pembroke!