“I could rub some comfrey cream into it if you like,” she offered, trying not to laugh.
Hugh smiled warmly, reflecting the amusement she knew was on her own face. He rose from the chair and came to sit beside her.
An awkward silence settled between them for a moment before he finally spoke. “I know why I fell over this morning; I was busy thinking about you and not looking where I was going. To be honest, I have been thinking a lot about you since we left England.”
He reached out and took hold of her hand. She shuddered as he raised it to his lips and kissed her palm. Their gazes met.
“My brother thinks you are in love with me. He says he has watched you and your eyes rarely leave me when we are in the same room. I thought he was mistaken, but I watched you tonight, and I think he might be right,” he said.
“And?” Mary prayed his answer would be a swift one—if she held her breath for any longer, she may faint.
“And I need to know if you do feel something for me, because I have to tell you, my affections toward you are not those merely of a friend. They haven’t been for some time,” he said.
It was a good thing that they were seated away from the fireplace, as the whoosh of air which left her lungs would surely have threatened to put out the flames.
“You . . . you love me?” A trickle of a tear rolled down her cheek. The love she saw shining in his eyes threatened to bring on more tears.
“Yes, Mary, I do love you,” he whispered. He speared his fingers into her hair and drew her to him, placing a searing kiss on her lips. The heady scent of his cologne, the same one she had gifted him, filled her senses.
Their tongues met in a soft dance. Every kiss he offered invited her to respond—to show her love for him. Mary was determined to hold nothing back.
Aunt Maude stirred in her chair.
They released one another from the kiss and sat with their foreheads touching while they both regained their breath.
A shy smile sat on Mary’s face. “I love you, Hugh. I always have.”
He took hold of her hands. “I was a fool not to have spoken my heart to you a long time ago. I promise I won’t ever hold my love from you again.”
Aunt Maude grumbled in her sleep and yawned.
Hugh cast his eye in her direction, then looked back at Mary.
“Come with me.” He took her by the hand and led her toward the steps. When they arrived under the mistletoe, he stopped.
Mary waited, expecting another soft, chaste kiss on the cheek.
“We don’t need magic, but I think we should still avail ourselves of it just to be sure.” He let out a growl before pulling her to him, swiftly taking her lips in another kiss which was anything but chaste. She clung to him as he plundered her mouth, meeting his hungry need with her own.
When he finally released her from the kiss, he held her close. His eyes burned bright with desire—desire she knew was for her.
“I can walk you to your room and we can say good night, or you can come with me and we can greet the dawn together. Either way, we will be making an announcement tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice gruff with barely restrained passion.
Mary nodded. “The dawn sounds perfect.” She placed her hand in his and they walked from the great hall.
As they disappeared up the steps, Lady Maude Radley rose from her chair. She crossed to the sofa where Hugh and Mary had been sitting. From behind one of the cushions, she retrieved a sprig of mistletoe. She held it up and softly chuckled.
“Old-fashioned Christmas magic always goes a long way.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hugh and Mary stole into his private apartment, and Hugh locked the door behind them. He pulled her into his embrace again and kissed her with the urgency and passion she sensed he had barely held in check back in the great hall.
“Are you sure you want to be here with me tonight? I will understand if you wish to wait,” he said.
Matters between them were moving fast but Mary had lain awake too many nights, imaging what she would do if she was ever given the chance to lie with Hugh, to even consider holding back at this pivotal moment.
Laying her hands on his stubbled cheeks, she drew him to her, and placed tender, inviting kisses on his lips. “I have waited long enough for you, Lord Hugh Radley. Tonight, you become mine.”
“And you mine. But first thing’s first,” he said, releasing her hands.
Hugh crossed to the tallboy which sat in the corner of his room and opened the top drawer. Mary took a deep breath and prayed that if this was indeed a dream, she would never wake from it.
He returned, stealing a warm kiss from her.
“We have to do this properly,” he said. With her hand held in his, he went down on bended knee. “I can be blind to some things at times; it is a fault in my nature. But my love for you has always been there, and always will be. You know my shortcomings better than anyone. And as my partner in this life, I empower you to take me to task if you ever feel that I am being anything less than fully supportive of you,” he said.
With a wry grin, Mary nodded. “I shall hold you to that, Hugh Radley.”
“Good. Mary Margaret Gray, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the greatest honor possible and become my wife?”
There were a dozen other words she could have used at that moment, including finally and about time, but her heart was so full of love for the man who knelt before her that
