It never could; her body was too wound up, her breasts aching in a way that she had not experienced before for another man, her muscles taut with the need to feel his hands against her. When it became too much, her feet moved before her mind could catch up.
She was several paces away when his head snapped up, a grin overtaking his face that made him look like a young boy on Christmas morning.
“You came,” he said, almost disbelieving. “I was beginning to worry you would stay away.”
She did not quite know what to say to that. As she approached slowly, it occurred to her that she had never been in this position before. Already, by following him out here, she had spoken volumes of her own intentions and desires. Now, she had to trust him to take it henceforth.
He stood up to his full height as she came to stand before him, her breath shallow. He looked down at her with an expression that was dark and heady. It made her shift her weight between her feet.
“Here I am,” she said plainly. “Evidently your word has carried great meaning for me.”
“I hoped it would. Might I assume, then, that you are happy for a third pursuit, Miss Browning? I do not believe you would have followed me if you were not.”
There was no denying him the truth at this point. Looking down, her face inflamed, she nodded. “I have decided to accept when something good is in front of me, Lord Brightwater.”
He furrowed his brow for a moment, as if attempting to decipher her meaning. Finally, his expression eased. “Do you often deny yourself, Miss Browning?”
Always, she wanted to say.
“Too often, yes.”
He stepped even closer, the heat of his body emanating against her. It was too close, too hot for her even in the chilled night air. She stepped around him, walking closer to the oak tree as she crossed her arms over her chest and thought.
“I do not know why you have chosen me. But as it seems that you have, I just…I thought you ought to know that I…erm, well, I no longer deny you.”
She did not know what she thought her confession to him might achieve, but she’d known before stepping foot into the garden that she was going to tell him the honest truth of her mind. It was so much easier to tell him like this, facing away.
Before she could get too comfortable in said position, his hands touched her arms from behind. She jumped, spinning to face him. His hands went to her arms once again, not roughly, but with firmness of purpose.
She could smell him; the scent of rain and parchment. Her lips parted involuntarily.
His own lips were not so very far away from hers now. She could not seem to stop looking at them.
“Miss Browning, I…” his voice was so soft, so far away. “I have something to ask you.” He said the words in a rush, almost fearfully.
The haze fell away. Augusta looked up into his eyes, which shifted around her face, taking in all of her features.
She realized all at once that this was not only going to be a declaration of love from him. No. It was going to be a proposal. She did not know how she knew, but she did. It sobered her in an instant, her mind rushing ahead of all those pesky things herbody had done to get her here.
A courtship could always be temporary. Lord Brightwater, however, was going to ask her for forever, not knowing what forever with her would entail.
“Lord Brightwater…” she began cautiously.
“Please, let me say it all. I know that it has been a short time-”
She stepped back, but his grip on her arms only tightened. “Lord Brightwater, please, think about what you are doing-”
“Please, let me finish. I have spent every single day with you for weeks, and it has only intensified my desire for your company. I am like a drowning man asking for a glass of water. I have your attention for hours on end, and yet each day I go home and it is not enough. I am asking for you to give me all of your hours, Miss Browning. All of your attention. And I know that that makes me a greedy man, but it is the truth of the matter.”
He left it there, his words heavy between them in the silence of the night and Augusta’s mouth hanging open slightly.
Just like that, she understood how all the heroines in her novels felt - swept away. Beguiled. Besotted. It was all glitter and jewels, not real love, she knew, but it had worked its magic on her. Her stomach flipped backwards and forwards.
No one on earth had ever expressed affection for her like the man in front of her just had.
“I-” she started, only to realize that she did not know what she intended to say.
I think you are making a mistake.She thought it, but she did not know if she thought it of herself or of him.
