With one hand, he cupped her face in that gentle way he had and touched his thumb to her healed mouth. “Would you be able to abandon me with such ease?”
The pain of watching him live out his life with another would force her to leave not only him but London. Still it was imperative he not know how she would be torn asunder when he married.
“Because I could never leave you,” he added before she came up with a rejoinder. “I want to be with you until I draw my last breath.”
“And what of your family?” she asked succinctly, returning to his first question. “Could they survive the embarrassment if I married you?”
“You’ve met them. When all is said and done, do you believe they give a tinker’s curse what Society thinks?”
“Langdon—”
“You don’t deserve to live in shadows, Marlowe. You don’t deserve to spend evenings hidden away. You got caught in a maelstrom of bad decisions that were chosen by others. You made the best of the situation. But if you could shake off the past, what would you want for your future?”
Not fair. Not fair. Because he was what she wanted. He was what she would always want. But she was tainted. However, the thought of being with this man for the remainder of her days...
Even if they only spent them in bed, the days would fill her to bursting with contentment.
His hand fell away from her face and she was bereft at the absence of his touch. She dearly wanted to grab his hand and return it to where it had been.
“Perhaps I’ve gone about this all wrong,” he said somberly. “Certainly I could have come to your residence with my proposal, but I wanted witnesses, I wanted you to see that I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to be with you. I love you, Marlowe. I love how courageous you are. To go up in the sky. I love how compassionate you are. To offer me solace when locked in the throes of a nightmare. I love how you see a problem and search for solutions. You’re going to keep track of numbers for me. I love the kindness you showed my sister when she was embarrassed at her reaction when she looks down from on high. I love you for your loyalty to Hollingsworth. I love everything about you.”
He lowered himself to one knee. “So I ask again, with everything that I am, with everything that I will ever be, with a heart that will forever be only yours, regardless of your answer... will you marry me? Will you be my wife, my viscountess, one day my countess, my keeper of secrets, and my lover?”
She was acutely aware of the din fading away and eyes coming to rest on him and her. Looking into Langdon’s pewter eyes, she saw all the love he held for her, all the promises he’d make over the years, promises he would keep. She saw in her arms a little boy with eyes the same shade as his.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She felt very much as she’d felt when she’d been caught in the tempest, clinging to the gondola for dear life, not certain what fate awaited her. Terrified.
She still didn’t know what fate awaited her—and it was frightening to leave behind a life she knew how to navigate, in order to travel through one that had yet to be mapped out—but she knew that together nothing could defeat them.
“I love you,” she told him. “And because I do, so very much, I know I should decline your proposal, I should say no, but there is nothing I want more than to be your wife, to share your life.”
He was a blur as he shot to his feet, took her in his arms, and latched his mouth onto hers. She heard claps and cheers. From his family no doubt, from all the members he’d told her would stand at his back in defense of her.
Hence it was that the following morning several gossip sheets reported the most infamous courtesan in London had received what was certain to be the most romantic marriage proposal of the Season.
Chapter 33
Two weeks later, in St. James Park, Marlowe stood in front of her repaired ballon. It was to be its maiden voyage. If she looked closely enough, she could see a few of the mended tears. She thought the colorful strips of cloth had never looked more beautiful.
There had been a downpour that morning, but now the skies were clear and the sun bright.
Beside her, Langdon opened the door she’d had added to the wicker basket so it was easier to get in and out of. Stepping into the gondola, taking a deep breath, she felt as though she’d come home.
“Come along, Vicar,” Langdon said.
The older gentleman, clutching his Bible, looked askance at her beloved contraption. “Are you quite certain it’s safe?”
“For the ceremony, we’re only ascending a few feet. It’ll stay tethered to the ground. Perfectly harmless.” He looked at her, an eyebrow arched. He was so handsome in his gray trousers, waistcoat, and neckcloth, white shirt, blue frockcoat, andtop hat. She could hardly believe he was going to be hers forever.
“Perfectly safe,” she assured him and the vicar, as well as those who’d be joining them.
With a bit more grumbling, the vicar finally boarded. The gondola rocked slightly. He grabbed onto the edge of the basket and uttered a prayer. She suspected her wedding was going to contain more prayers than any other in England.
Langdon assisted Poppy in coming on board. She was going to serve as Marlowe’s attendant. Stuart, as best man, followed.
