Page 104 of Yielding to Love

“Laughed and thanked him. It was windy last night. Your bonnet loosened.” He rolled his hand as if finishing the story without words.

“Georgiana tried that.”

Crispin snorted. “And how did that work?”

“She made it worse.”

He was quiet a moment. Then plinked a few keys, stopped, and faced her again. “The thing is, Camellia, they won’t say anything. Not outside of this house. I expect to be bullied, but no one will bother you if I tell them not to. They will show you no disrespect. They won’t believe whatever story I tell them, not now, but they will pretend to accept it.”

“But you will be lying to your family.”

“Not for the first time.” He sounded rueful. “I’m sorry. Truly. I understand this is awkward for you. If you don’t want to stay here…I don’t know. I can throw a tantrum. Send everyone home.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can spin the tale so that they are angry with me. And gentle with you.”

“How? By telling them you are merely taking advantage of a poor widow? They won’t believe that.”

He grimaced. “They might.”

“I doubt that. Besides, I have a better idea.”

“Anything. Whatever you want me to do—”

“Marry me.”

He stared. Then blinked. “You didn’t want to be trapped.”

“I’m not. I trust that your family won’t betray us. It would even surprise me if Alice were to dismiss me. I’m not asking you because of what happened last night or this morning. I’m asking because I want to be your wife.”

“You said you can’t go through it again. Caring for another dying loved one.”

“You don’t appear to be dying.”

“My health cannot be counted upon.”

“Crispin.” She exhaled. “I was wrong. I don’t regret the privilege of caring for my parents. Or the short time I had with my brother. I don’t regret marrying Manfred and easing his passing by presenting him with a son. He was a good, good man. And I certainly do not regret Neville.”

“You are too generous.”

“No, I am realistic. Life is short. I want to seize it, not avoid it. I love you, Crispin. However much time we might have together, I want it. I want it all.”

He turned his head, and stared out the window. He drummed his fingers on his knee. Then he faced her again. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

“You will?” She felt a bit breathless. Stunned.

“Of course, I will. I wanted to propose to you last night, but I was afraid you would break my heart.” He stood. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To the morning room. If you would, stare at me dewy-eyed and pretend I asked you.”

*

Crispin steered Camellia back to the morning room. Jasper had returned. Good. Everyone was there. Except Vanessa, but she’d hear soon enough.

“Taverstons,” he said, leaning against the buffet. He dropped Camellia’s elbow and wrapped his arm around her waist. “May I—”

Olivia jumped up with a squeal. Then everyone applauded. Even his mother. Camellia tensed, then relaxed against him. He tightened his hold. God. He loved his ridiculous family.

“When is the wedding?” Jasper asked, when the applause died down.

He wanted to say as soon as possible. But he didn’t want to imply urgency was required.

Camellia answered, “My late husband passed in September. So…nine months.”

“Nine months!” Crispin protested. “Nine more months? Camellia, nine months is too long.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Alice groaned.

“Amen,” Georgiana said, then laughed.

Crispin swallowed his protest and took what little control they left to him. “Early next September, at the church in Iversley Village. You all must be there.”