Closing her eyes for a moment, she let him pull her through another spin.
* * *
Guests danced, musicians played, wine flowed, and if he didn’t get Lottie alone for five minutes to kiss her properly, he might scream. The damned skirts were too wide to allow him a place by her side, so he held her fingers, tugging her along the edge of the room toward the balcony beyond the windows of the glittering ballroom. Lady Agatha had outdone herself. The house was almost as lovely as the woman who’d finally agreed to marry him.
Their visit to Gunther’s and her abysmal timing of consenting to marry him—while standing in a public venue—was so very Lottie, he’d been smiling like a fool since. She was a woman of surprises, and it was pointless to deny that his heart was hers. Entirely. Even if he couldn’t tell her in those specific words, because she would run away, he knew he loved her.
Somehow, he’d managed to win her hand. Him. Lady Charlotte Wentworth, daughter of the Earl of Brinkley, had agreed to marry a Scottish sheep farmer. Such an odd thing.
They’d written to the earl, but they hadn’t received a response. Not a huge surprise given the distance the letters had to travel. It felt a bit like tempting fate to celebrate so openly without her father’s blessing. While writing their letters, they’d shared their plans with Lady Agatha. The older woman had encouraged them to continue with the engagement ball on the grounds that creating a public spectacle of the match might corner the earl into agreeing to the marriage.
A memory of the earl’s sour face crossed his mind. The years had changed Ethan. Perhaps they’d softened the earl too.
If not, this could be the last time he had Lottie alone. Tomorrow might bring a letter—or even the earl himself—to her door, ending everything. No matter how he spun the possibilities, Ethan didn’t have a plan beyond begging if that happened. Any other action risked separating Lottie from her last family member, and he couldn’t do that to her. Especially not if there was a chance her relationship with her father could be repaired now that he was coming out of mourning.
When Ethan had told her she looked beautiful, he’d understated it. Yes, maneuvering in the gown was a chore, but he heartily approved of the style if it meant acres of skirts and a minuscule bodice.
“You have a habit of cornering me on balconies. Have you noticed?” She was teasing and laughing, and his.
“They’re the closest thing tae privacy I can find, and I need tae kiss you before I go mad.” She didn’t protest when Ethan pulled her toward the corner farthest from the ballroom lights.
At last, her body pressed against his, and something inside him released on a sigh of relief. “I’ve missed holding you,” he said. The back of her neck warmed his palm through his evening gloves.
“Careful of the wig,” she whispered.
If she couldn’t tilt her head, he’d have to come down to her. Grinning at the ridiculousness of it, he bent so they were on eye level and finally kissed her.
Lottie tasted sweeter when she smiled. That he knew something so intimate about her had him thanking whatever god was so lax as to let Ethan stumble his way into favor. Again, the earl’s face flashed in his mind, intruding on the moment of happiness. The love match between Lottie’s parents was well known in the ton. There was a chance the letters could sway her father. Shoving away the worry, Ethan lost himself in the kiss until she pulled away a long moment later.
Her breath feathered against his face on a sigh. “What if he says no, Ethan?”
Their thoughts traveled the same path, then. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. You’re the master planner. Do you have any ideas?”
Beyond the garden walls a night watchman called the hour as one by one gaslights flickered on down the street, filtering light through the trees lining the balcony.
The sight of her worrying her bottom lip with her teeth distracted him from her words for a moment. “Elope? We’d probably forfeit my dowry, though, and he might never forgive me. But I am of age.”
He brushed a thumb over her lip, soothing the skin her teeth had nibbled. “He’s all you have left, lass. I don’ want tae jeopardize that. But as tae the dowry, Woodrest will support us—although not in a lavish lifestyle. At least, not for a few more years. Tae be honest, nearly everything I have is invested in the brewery.”
“He is all I have left. Well, Father and Agatha. I don’t want to lose him. But it’s the principle of the thing, Ethan. That’s my dowry. It isn’t right that he could deny me what’s mine.”
Leaning against the balustrade, Ethan interlaced his fingers with hers. “What are you saying, lass?”
“I’m saying, he needs to see reason and let me marry whom I choose.” The frustration in her tone was clear.
Ethan would do everything within his power to make her never regret marrying him. Even so, the future wasn’t set in stone. Nothing had been resolved, and it sounded like she wasn’t going to be moved from her stance. Those last precious pieces of her plan—the dowry, her own estate, having someplace to run away—were hers to cling to. And they might be the deciding factor that kept them apart.
Saying that aloud would make it real. It would mean giving voice to the fear. That in the end, she’d choose her plan, the future she’d envisioned, over him. If she did, it would hurt like hell.
No matter his gloomy thoughts about the future, the balcony remained blessedly empty, and she was in his arms. This might be their
