Page 114 of One Night with an Earl

Not true.

It hadn’t been her home in a decade. A long period of time in which she hadn’t slept in her childhood bed, hadn’t frolicked in the gardens, hadn’t toured the glass-and-iron greenhouse with her mother. It had been forever since the humid heat curled her hair and caused flushed cheeks as she learned the names of every rosebush and exotic plant. And years since she’d helped her mother with the plants, feeling the earthy, potting soil beneath her fingers while smelling the unique, perfumed fragrance of the flowers.

Lovely, cherished childhood memories of long ago. Funny how the past had a way of creeping into your head, your chest, your belly, and grow like clutching vines around your heart.

It was time to let go.

She had no legal right to the property, and if Rosedown could save someone she loved, someone like Penelope, then the sacrifice was well worth any lingering ache in her chest.

“I’m shocked you thought of it,” she said.

“The estate will provide for them all their lives, but only if you agree.”

“Why are you are asking my permission?”

His smile was slow. Slow and heart-wrenchingly tender. “Rosedown is your home. If you do not wish for me to gift it to Penelope and Timothy, then I will gift it to you.”

He was offering to return her home to her?

An impossible choice.

She knew the answer before the words left her lips. “Was, my lord. Rosedown was my home. It hasn’t been mine in years.”

“Perhaps. But I still seek your consent.”

“Then my answer is yes. You helped me find my charge. Now please help Penelope and Timothy once more.”

…

Oliver wasn’t surprised at Ana’s generosity. Her kindness, her shimmering essence, had captivated him from the beginning. If only he could go back and make things right. But deep down, he knew their past was the only way to their future.

A future he prayed would end the way he desperately desired.

He was suddenly nervous, like a man risking his heart on his sleeve. “I have something for you as well.”

He reached inside his coat and withdrew a small box. It reminded him of the time he’d gifted her the necklace in a private room in a different inn. It seemed long ago. So much had happened between them since that wonderful evening.

He was aware of the few occupants in the room, the innkeeper and his wife, a pair of drunken men, Penelope and Timothy. He was aware and did not care.

He pushed back his chair and lowered to one knee, then opened the box to reveal an emerald ring surrounded by diamonds. “Ana, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, my countess?”

Her eyes flew to his. “Oliver, I—”

“It is my mother’s ring. I want my wife to wear it. Unlike my own parents, my grandparents had a loving marriage. I have no doubt that our own lives will be full of love as well. Please forgive me for doubting you. All that I have, I will happily share with you as my countess. I do not deserve you. I love you, Ana.”

He waited, his chest tightening with anticipation.

Her lips parted and her hazel eyes were wide. “You love me?”

“When I said I wanted to do right by you, I lied. My thoughts are selfish. I need you in my life. Without you, I see only a future of unhappiness and loneliness. I love you with all my heart.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she pushed back her own chair and threw herself into his arms. “I love you, Oliver, have loved you for so long.” She kissed him.

Relief and joy squeezed his heart. His arms tightened around her and held her close. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

The clapping in the inn was drowned out by the singing in his heart.