Page 60 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

The door to the house opened behind her, and she didn’t turn to see who had stepped out. She hoped that whichever sister had come would see she wished to be alone and leave her. Footsteps sounded until a shadow fell on the ground in front of her and stopped. She recognized the shape of the top hat, then stood and turned.

“Lord Pembroke.” To her dismay, her voice cracked. She wished she could show herself strong in front of him.

“Camilla.” He took the basket from her one hand and the trowel from the other and placed both on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wanting to add, Didn’t you hear me say we did not suit? but didn’t dare utter the words. Part of her wanted to be overborne by his objections, but the stronger part reminded herself to remain firm.

“When I asked you to marry me in Hampstead, what did you think I meant by my proposal?” he asked her. “Did you think I was not serious?” He licked his lips, as though he were nervous. She had never before seen him less than sure of himself.

“I thought you proposed because you had ruined me by kissing me when we had no understanding. You wanted to do the right thing.”

“That is what I was afraid of.” Briefly, he covered his face with his hands. “And why do you think I kissed you?”

“Because…” Her cheeks burned with the humiliation of what she was about to confess, but she had decided she would speak her mind, no matter how embarrassing the truth was. “I invited you to it. Like a woman who was desperate.”

Pembroke furrowed his brow. Frowning, he took her hand as he led her to the only stone bench in the garden and guided her onto the seat. Then, he knelt in front of her, took both her hands in his, and looked fully into her eyes. The frown was gone, and in its place was something different. An expression in his eyes that almost looked earnest.

“I asked you to marry me because I am madly, deeply”—he spoke the words with serious deliberation—“and irrevocably in love with you. I have not known it for long. Or rather, I have felt it for some time but have only been aware of it in recent weeks.”

Her heart froze with what seemed like happiness, but it was so foreign a feeling she could not be sure. Had he truly said he was in love with her? Madly in love?

He must have seen her doubt because he squeezed her hands and pulled them toward him. “I love the turn of your thoughts and the way you speak your mind. I love your sense of humor that is so dry a person has to look for it in order not to miss it. I love how perceptive you are, how kind, how ruthless in communicating your opinions to gentlemen who have less than sense on matters of love. And I love your face, your hair, your lips, your person.” He scarcely took a breath before finishing.

“Camilla, I humbly beg your forgiveness for not having told you this before I kissed you. Before I proposed to you. For not having known all of this early enough to spare you the pain of doubt.”

“You must not have known it,” she found the courage to say. “For you sent me the most confusing signs. One minute you were cradling my hand in yours and not letting me go, and that same night, you were telling Miles that you are going to propose to Miss Eubank.”

His mouth opened, and he stared at her without speaking. She feared that she had said too much. He must have a disgust of her for having eavesdropped.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she hastened to say. “I was coming to tell you that we were ready to sit down to tea, and I…overheard you. And hearing you speak those words was like a knife through my heart because I loved you. I was in love with you. And you did not return my feelings.”

“Then…that is why you did not return for tea.” He read the answer in her face and shook his head, thinking back. “I supposed it to be the fatigue of the day as your message said when the servant came to deliver it. I understood, but I was sorely disappointed not to see you again—and not to see you the next morning before I left. I waited for you.”

“I was hiding,” she said softly.

He let that soak in, and shook his head once more. “I am indeed an idiot as Miles said. I think I loved you then but did not know it, and that is why I could not help but treat you with special distinction.” He groaned. “Camilla, do not mistake my illiteracy of my heart’s condition for a lack of depth or constancy.”

A breeze of hope lifted her spirit and sent a lump into her throat. Constancy. He spoke of constancy.

“That night, I was talking to Miles as a man doomed, because the pressure to marry was great, and I could not imagine anyone in the role of countess. I picked one at random, and then as you must have deduced, could not come up to scratch.”

“I do not care about being your countess,” she said.

He looked at her curiously, and she thought he understood. With his next words she was sure of it. “But you might, under the right conditions, consent to becoming my wife?” he ventured.

She nodded, her own lips suddenly dry, and unable to remove her eyes from his.

“As for the conditions…” He paused. “Do you truly think we do not suit?” More of his carefully enunciated words. More of his direct regard that demanded the truth from her. She shook her head, unable to find her voice again after his grand confession.

“I did not ask you to marry me because I kissed you,” he stated, then a sudden smile broke through the seriousness of his manner. “Although I hope you will accept to marry me so that we might do that as frequently as we please, which, I assure you, will be often.”

She returned a tremulous smile as he took her hands.

“Lady Camilla Rowlandson, I will now ask you again. Will you do me the pleasure—the honor—and make me the happiest man on the face of this earth, by accepting my hand in marriage?”

She breathed in to answer as he removed one hand from hers and held it up at his side as though taking an oath.

“Before you answer me, I call your attention to the man kneeling before you, who has lost his heart to you, and who might not ever recover it if you refuse.” Now Camilla smiled broadly until her eyes shone with tears, and he looked at her with relief. “Ah, your smile. I have missed it.”