“Gregory,” she said immediately.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. It sounded demanding, but he gave her a moment to refuse if she was so inclined. She was not inclined to refuse, however. He lifted one hand to her cheek with his fingers curling around the side of her head. He then pulled her closer as he bent down to touch his lips to hers.
Mary’s whole body awoke in a way she had not felt in over a year. Without thought, her arms wrapped around him and pulled him even closer. Their kiss, which had begun gently, quickly grew fevered, and Mary forgot that she was sitting in a curricle surrounded by the farmlands of her own estate.
It was Mr. Worsley who came to his senses first. He pulled away and said, “I should probably not do that again for a while.” Mary was disappointed, but the very small part of her mind which was still thinking rationally agreed with him. Given her strong response to him, she realized that their passion could very easily burn out of control, leading them to behave in very inappropriate ways.
“I think you forgot to take into account the fact that I was married for a year and have since been without any of those pleasures associated with the married state,” Mary said.
Mr. Worsley barked a laugh. “I did, indeed, forget to take that into account.” He turned back to the reins, picked them up, and started the horse moving again.
They rode in silence for a time. Mary was grateful for it as it allowed her to calm her racing heartbeat. After a time, though, Mary realized there was something in their conversation that had been left unsaid. It was a topic that was not usually broached by females, but Mary had learned to speak her mind, to recognize what she wanted, and to seek out how to achieve it.
“It feels as though there is still something left unsaid,” said Mary.
“Oh? And what is that?” Gregory asked, though the corner of his mouth quirked as though he knew what she was referring to, but he wanted to see if she would say it.
Mary did not back down from the challenge. “You have not mentioned marriage. Is that not the next step when two independent adults realize they are hopelessly in love with each other?”
He looked at her. The light was back in his eyes, and Mary had to force herself to lean away from him to prevent herself from distracting him from his driving with another kiss. Instead of being offended at her reaction, he merely grinned. “Are you hopelessly in love, Mary?”
“Perhaps not,” she said, turning back to face the front. She could see out of the corner of her eye that his flirtatious look lost its heat at her response. She did not wish to hurt him, however, so she quickly continued, “I think I would prefer to call it hopefully in love.”
Gregory laughed heartily. “As am I,” he said. “I believe that describes it perfectly. As to your question about marriage, I fully intend to ask you, but not before I have courted you so well that you are fully aware of the treasure you are to me.”
“That may have been your plan upon coming to this neighborhood,” said Mary, “but given our response to a simple kiss, do you still think it wise to continue to delay?”
“Ever the practical lady,” he said. “Are you concerned about me leading you into temptation?”
“I am practical,” Mary answered. “Practical enough to know that the most surefire way to avoid falling to temptation is to avoid placing yourself in its way as often as possible.”
Gregroy glanced back at her once again. The expression in his eyes was much softer now, though still clearly filled withaffection for her. “You know, that is one of the things I love most about you, your thoughtful approach to morality. You don’t just spout lines that you’ve heard. You live it to the best of your ability, thoughtfully and sensibly.”
It was the greatest compliment Mary had ever received, and she knew he meant it. He was complimenting that part of her personality that was most core to who she was, and it felt wonderful to know that he saw her so clearly.
He looked back towards the front and said, “Perhaps you are correct. Perhaps I shouldn’t delay it any longer than necessary. I did so hope to sweep you off your feet with a romantic and dramatic proposal, though.”
“I do not need romance and drama to know that you love me,” said Mary. “Love is shown by the little things that a person does each day for the one person that matters the most to them. It is also shown by the big things that can be life changing. You showed me the latter when you chose to allow me time to grieve. The former is something that takes a lifetime.”
“How do you know so much about love?” Gregory asked.
“You are asking if I loved Mr. Allen,” she said. “You have a right to know, I suppose. I did not love him, at least not in a romantic sense, but I did love him almost as a father. Perhaps mentor is a better word. He taught me everything, far more than my parents taught me in sixteen years. He gave me everything I wanted: opportunities to serve others, the confidence to become a more socially acceptable woman, and a great deal of knowledge about the world around me. He even gave me both responsibility and independence by leaving his entire fortune to me, which he had no obligation to do.
“What knowledge I have of love, how it is expressed and how it grows, is because he loved me. I watched as he graduallyfell in love with me over the course of a year, though I did not know what I was seeing at the time. It is only in thinking back over my life with him during my time of mourning that I was able to see the symptoms and their progression.”
Silence flowed between them when Mary finished her explanation. She could tell that Gregory was thinking a great deal about what she had said.
When he finally spoke, his words quite shocked Mary. “He did love you,” he said, “very much, but I don’t think it was a possessive sort of love like what one finds in most romance novels. He knew you very well, and he genuinely wanted to make you happy.”
It was odd to hear the same conclusion she had come to come out of Gregory’s mouth. She hadn’t even been aware that the two of them had ever spoken together about her. She decided not to question how he had come to this conclusion, so she simply said, “Yes, he did.”
“Are you certain you do not wish for romance and drama?” Gregory asked.
“I am quite certain,” she replied adamantly. “In fact, the more dramatic someone’s protestations are, the less I tend to believe them.”
Once again, Gregory halted the progress of the curricle. Then he turned towards her. “Mary Allen, will you please join your life with mine so that together we can be far happier, far better, than either of us could be alone? Will you marry me?”
His question was so sincere, so completely in tune with what she wanted and hoped for. She could not help but throw her arms around his neck and hug him tightly. “Yes, Gregory. Yes, I will marry you,” she said into his neck.
