“No. The only ones are on the outside. I take it English houses aren’t the same.”
They descended to the next level, and he asked, “What is on this floor?”
Warmth rose up her neck into her cheeks. “My apartment. It is common for the parents to have the main floor and the children to live in the lower levels. The servants have rooms in the long houses.” They continued down a few more steps, until they reached the garden level and the path leading to a large Flamboyant tree still full of bright red flowers. She sank onto the bench under the tree, and removed her wide-brimmed bonnet.
Now that they were alone, Cicely’s stomach fluttered as if butterflies were having a party in it. Unable to meet his gaze, she stared out over the water. “Mr. Grayson—”
“I would be honored if you would call me Andrew.”
The fluttering moved to her heart, and she was suddenly breathless for the second time that day. “Andrew. It’s a nice name.”
“From my paternal grandfather. Miss Whitecliff?”
She turned and looked into his soft gray eyes. “Please call me Cicely.”
He smiled gently and took her hands in his much larger ones. “It’s a lovely name.”
“Thank you.”
He gazed at her for several moments. If he didn’t say something soon she was going to expire on the spot. “I realize we’ve not known one another long . . . only a few days.”
Surely he wouldn’t suggest they wait before he declared himself. What if it wasn’t the same for him as it was for her? Cicely couldn’t take this much longer. She had to know. Suddenly she blurted, “I feel a connection.”
Andrew’s countenance became serious.Drat!She’d been too impulsive.
“I do as well,” he responded as if startled. “What I’d like to say—” A rueful grin appeared on his lips. “Pardon me. I’m not usually so inarticulate.”
She held her breath, willing him to get on with it.
His grip on her fingers tightened as he searched her face. “Would you be my wife?”
The butterflies left and her heart stopped for a moment. This was exactly what she’d hoped he’d say. Was there ever a woman as lucky as she? “Yes.” She drew a breath. “Yes, I would love to be your wife.”
He bent his head, lightly touching his lips to hers, and drew her into his arms. “You’ve made me the happiest of men, my love.”
“Do you love me?” She hoped it was not just a term he used for all women.
Andrew smiled. “Above all things. You are everything I’ve been searching for.”
“I am?” She searched his face. Small lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes and his smile broadened.
“Yes. I knew from the moment we began going over the accounts together that you were intelligent and had a quick, practical mind.” Andrew kissed first one hand then the other. “That you are a joy to look at commended you to me as well.”
Cicely lowered her lashes. “It is good that you were impressed first by my mind. Beauty fades.”
Andrew placed a finger under her chin, raising it. “To me, you will always be lovely.”
Bubbles of happiness like those in champagne flowed through her. Cicely felt so light, she could be floating through the air. This was what it meant when people said their happiness was complete. “That’s good, because I love you as well.”
Andrew’s lips met hers, sending sparks shooting through her, like the fireworks on Christmas.
Was that what Eugénie had experienced with Mr. Munford? Good Lord, she must speak with Andrew about his friend. Maybe he’d have some influence with the man, but first . . . She slid her arms around Andrew’s neck and returned his kiss.Thishad definitely been worth waiting for.
“Open your lips.” Though she didn’t understand what he intended to do, she did as he asked. His tongue slipped into her mouth. The sensation was strange but pleasurable, as if they were becoming one person. When his tongue stroked hers, she returned his caresses.Oh my, yes.This was very good. Frissons of pleasure made her whole body tingle.
He lifted his head. “I’ve wanted to do that since the night we met.”
She glanced at him, shy for the first time. “I thought you did. If I’d known how nice it would be, I would have as well.”
