the doorway. She looked shocked, she looked scared. But when she looked at
She loved him. He didn’t know how or why, but he was not enough of a fool to question it. And when her eyes met his, he saw hope. He saw the future, and it was shining like the sunrise.
His entire life, he’d been running. From himself, from his faults. He’d been so desperate that no one should truly know him, that he’d denied himself the chance to find his place in the world.
He smiled. He finally knew where he belonged.
He had seen Grace when she entered the room, but she’d stood back, and he couldn’t go to her, not when he’d been trying so hard to keep the dukedom in Thomas’s hands, where it belonged.
But it seemed he’d failed in that measure.
He would not fail in
“Grace,” he said, and went to her, taking both of her hands in his.
“What the devil are you doing?” the dowager demanded.
He dropped to one knee.
“Marry me,” he said, squeezing her hands. “Be my bride, be my-” He laughed, a bubble of absurdity rising from within. “Be my duchess.” He smiled up at her. “It’s a lot to ask, I know.”
“Stop that,” the dowager hissed. “You can’t marry her.”
“Jack,” Grace whispered. Her lips were trembling, and he knew she was thinking about it. She was teetering.
And he could bring her over the edge.
“For once in your life,” he said fervently, “make
“Stop this!” Crowland blustered. He grabbed Jack under his arm and tried to haul him to his feet, but Jack would not budge. He would remain on one knee for eternity if that was what it took.
“Marry me, Grace,” he whispered.
“You will marry Amelia!” Crowland cut in.
Jack did not take his eyes off Grace’s face. “Marry me.”
“Jack…” she said, and he could hear it in her voice that she thought she should make an excuse, should say something about his duty or her place.
“Marry me,” he said again, before she could go on.
“She is not acceptable,” the dowager said coldly.
He brought Grace’s hands to his lips. “I will marry no one else.”
“She is not of your rank!”
He turned and gave his grandmother an icy look. He felt rather ducal, actually. It was almost entertaining. “Do you wish for me to produce an heir? Ever?”
The dowager’s face pinched up like a fish.
“I shall take that as a yes,” he announced. “Which means that Grace shall have to marry me.” He shrugged. “It’s the only way, if I am to give Wyndham a legitimate heir.”
Grace started to blink, and her mouth-the corners were moving. She was fighting herself, telling herself she should say no. But she loved him. He knew that she did, and he would not allow her to throw that away.
“Grace-” He scowled, then laughed. “What the devil is your middle name, anyway?”
“Catriona,” she whispered.
“Grace Catriona Eversleigh,” he said, loud and sure, “I love you. I love you with every inch of my heart, and I swear right now, before all who are assembled…” He looked around, catching sight of the rectory housekeeper, who was standing open-mouthed in the doorway. “…even-devil it,” he muttered, “what is your name?”
“Mrs. Broadmouse,” she said, eyes wide.
Jack cleared his throat. He was beginning to feel like himself. For the first time in days, he felt like himself. Maybe he was stuck with this bloody title, but with Grace at his side, he could find a way to do some good with it.
“I swear to you,” he said, “before Mrs. Broadmouse-”
“Stop this!” the dowager yelled, grabbing hold of his other arm. “Get on your feet!”
Jack gazed up at Grace and smiled. “Was there ever a proposal so beleaguered?”
She smiled back, even as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
“You are supposed to marry Amelia!” Lord Crowland growled.
And then there was Amelia…poking her head around her father’s shoulder. “I won’t have him,” she announced, rather matter-of-fact. She caught Jack’s eye and smiled.
The dowager gasped. “You would refuse my grandson?”
“
Jack tore his eyes off Grace for just long enough to grin approvingly at Amelia. She grinned back, motioning with her head toward Grace, telling him in no uncertain terms to get back to the matter at hand.
“Grace,” Jack said, rubbing her hands softly with his. “My knee is beginning to hurt.”
She started to laugh.
“Say yes, Grace,” Amelia said.
“Listen to Amelia,” Jack said.
“What the devil am I going to do with you?” Lord Crowland said. To Amelia, that was, not that she seemed to care.
“I love you, Grace,” Jack said.
She was grinning now. It seemed her whole body was grinning, as if she’d been enveloped in a happiness that would not let go. And then she said it. Right in front of everyone.
“I love you, too.”
He felt all the happiness in the world swirling into him, straight to his heart. “Grace Catriona Eversleigh,” he said again, “will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
He stood. “I’m going to kiss her now,” he called out.
And he did. Right in front of the dowager, in front of Amelia and her father, even in front of Mrs. Broadmouse.
He kissed her. And then he kissed her some more. He was kissing her when the dowager departed in an angry huff, and he was kissing her when Lord Crowland dragged Amelia away, muttering something about delicate sensibilities.
He kissed her, and he kissed her, and he would have kept kissing her except that he realized that Mrs. Broadmouse was still standing in the doorway, staring at them with a rather benign expression.
Jack grinned at her. “A spot of privacy, if you don’t mind?”
She sighed and toddled away, but before she shut the door, they heard her say-
“I do like a good love story.”
Epilogue
“Mama!”
Grace looked up from her correspondence. Her third child (and only daughter) was standing in the doorway, looking much aggrieved.
