Who Will Take This Man?

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

She pressed her hands to her midriff. “Was I the person who inspired that kiss, or was I merely a substitute for another woman?”

A myriad of emotions paraded across his face: confusion, comprehension, then an unmistakable dash of anger. “I’d never use ye in such a way, Charlotte.”

Her knees nearly buckled with relief, and the flame of hope burned brighter. “That kiss-”

“Was a terrible mistake.”

“Why do you say that?”

He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Then a short, humorless sound escaped him. “Yer horrified reaction made it very clear. Not that I blame ye, of course. I had no right to touch you.”

Her heart squeezed. “I wasn’t horrified, Albert. I was surprised. Shocked, actually. I couldn’t imagine why you would kiss me at all, but most especially like that. ”

“Like that? Ye mean like a piteously green lad.” He all but spit out the words.

“No. I mean like a man kisses a woman he cares for deeply. A woman he… loves.”

Albert prayed for the floor to split open and swallow him. Never, in his entire life, had he been more mortified. Bloody hell, with his clumsy kiss, he’d given away the show.

“Is that how you kissed me, Albert?”

His shoulders slumped at her soft-spoken question. He wanted to deny it, to spare himself from being the further object of her pity, but how could he hope to convincingly lie about something so obvious? Besides, he wouldn’t have to see her pity for long. He’d be gone from here within a matter of hours. “Yes, Charlotte, that is how I kissed you.”

“Because you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He jerked his head in a nod. “Yes. Tonight my feelin’s… they got the better of me. And since I can’t promise that they never would again, I have to leave here. For both our sakes.”

“Oh… my. Albert, that kiss was the most wondrous I’ve ever received. I didn’t even know a kiss could be wondrous until tonight.”

Confusion filled him. “Wondrous? Are ye sayin‘ you liked it?”

“Yes, Albert, that is what I’m saying. But you so surprised me, I did not have the presence of mind to react as I should have. I wouldn’t be so surprised if you were to try it again… now.”

He could only stare, certain he’d misheard her. “Are ye sayin‘ you want me to kiss you?”

“More than anything.”

She couldn’t have struck him more dumb with a brick to his head. Half of him wanted to simply grab her and take advantage of this obvious leave-taking of her wits, but the other half demanded caution. And the assurance that his hearing had not suddenly become afflicted.

“Why would ye want me to kiss you?” he asked carefully, studying her, terrified by the seed of hope struggling to bloom in his heart.

Her eyes filled with such unmistakable tenderness, his breath cut off. “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he’d lost his mind. Daft, that’s what he was. Hearing things. Bedlam was the next stop for him.

Clearly he must have looked as dazed as he felt, because her eyes filled with concern. “Albert, did you hear me?”

“I’m not certain. Doesn’t seem possible that I heard what I think I heard. Could ye… say it again?”

A smile trembled on her lips. Then she cleared her throat and said in a slow, distinct, and quite loud voice, “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he hadn’t lost his mind! Reaching out, he framed her face between his unsteady hands. She stepped closer to him and lifted her face, sliding her arms around his waist.

“Charlotte…” He brushed his mouth softly across hers, almost afraid to touch her, fearful that he’d suddenly awake and discover this was nothing but a dream, a figment of his imagination. But there was nothing imaginary about the way her lips parted beneath his, or the feel of her arms tightening around him.

Forcing himself to end their kiss before the increasingly urgent demands of his body overrode his judgment, he lifted his head. And looked at the most incredible, beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Charlotte. In his arms. Her lips moist and reddened-from his kiss. Her skin flushed with arousal-from his touch. Her eyes filled with tenderness and love-for him.

He blinked twice, still certain that she would disappear, but she remained in his embrace. God knows he didn’t want to say or do anything to disrupt this magical moment, but he had to ask. “Are ye certain, Charlotte? Certain ye want to take on a man like me?” He looked pointedly down at his leg, then raised his gaze to hers. “I’m damaged goods.”

“So am I. I can’t change my past, Albert.”

“Any more than I can change mine.” He touched her soft cheek, marveling that he could do so. “I’m only interested in yer present and yer future.”

“I’m five years older than you.”

“I don’t care.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I can’t believe ye’re right here, that I’m touchin‘ you, that you love me. But by God, I’m not goin’ to let this slip away. Charlotte, will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened; then, to his alarm and dismay, a big tear dribbled down her cheek. “Bloody hell! I didn’t mean to make ye cry.” He brushed away the drop with his fingers, but another tear, then another, followed.

“I’m not crying,” she whispered.

“Well, then ye’ve sprung a leak, ‘cause there’s water coming out of yer eyeballs.”

A noise that sounded like a sob and laugh combined rushed from her. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. Feeling utterly helpless, he patted her back, smoothed her hair, and lightly kissed her temple. “Charlotte, please, I can’t stand to see ye cry. Why are ye so upset?”

She raised her head at that. Framing his face between her palms, she said, “I’m not upset. I’m overcome. Stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me that you’d want to marry me.”

“What did ye think I’d want?” Yet the instant he asked the question, he read the answer in her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of dishonorin‘ ye, Charlotte.”

“I’m not the sort of woman a man marries.”

“The hell ye’re not. I want you to be my wife. I want Hope to be my daughter. I guess the only question is, do you want me to be yer husband and Hope’s pa?”

“If you want us-”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

She drew in a visibly shaky breath. “Then yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

It was as if the sun broke out from behind a balloon of dark clouds. Clasping her tightly against him, he kissed her long and deep, until he had to break away to keep his sanity. He rested his forehead against hers for half a minute, catching his breath. “There’s somethin‘ ye should know. I’ve… I’ve never been with a woman.”

“I wish I could tell you that I’ve never been with a man. But I can honestly say that I’ve never made love with a man before.”

He lifted his head and smiled. “Is it true? Are ye really goin‘ to be my wife?”

She smiled in return. “Yes. Are you truly going to be my husband?”

“Yes. And the sooner, the better. I, urn, hope you won’t be wantin‘ a long engagement.”

“Albert, it’s not necessary for us to wait until we’re married to-”

He silenced her with a kiss. “Yes. It is. Ye deserve all the respect due a proper lady, and I’ll not besmirch yer honor by taking ye before we’re wed. I never thought I’d have ye, Charlotte. Now that ye’re mine, I can wait.”

The love and gratitude shining in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “I cannot wait to tell Hope and Meredith our happy news,” she said. “Won’t she be surprised to learn that while she was attending a dinner party to find Lord Greybourne a perfect match, we found a perfect match of our own?”

“A mighty successful evenin‘ as far as I’m concerned,” he said, returning her smile. “I only hope Miss Merrie’s was as successful.”