Page 3 of To Follow her Heart

“I wasn’t stuck,” Kitty said, dogged as ever.

“No,” Luke said, his tone soothing. “I know. You were just resting.”

Kitty held her tongue, too in charity with him to argue the point, and allowed him to help her down. As she jumped the final distance, however, she stumbled, and Luke caught her, steadying her. He was always doing that. Kitty was reckless and pig-headed, and obstinate, with a temper that led her into trouble without fail. Luke was calm, patient, and understanding, and never complained—or at least rarely—when he too ended up in trouble. He was steadfast and loyal, the best friend she’d ever had, and she loved him with all her heart.

He was looking at her a little oddly now though, and Kitty stilled, wondering if she had dirt on her nose. She was about to ask him when he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

It only lasted for the briefest moment, and then he was staring at her again, scarlet-faced and unsure of himself.

“Do you mind?” he asked, breathing hard.

Kitty felt a ridiculous smile curve over her mouth, and she shook her head, her black curls dancing in disarray about her face.

Luke let out a breath and kissed her again, for a fraction longer this time. Kitty closed her eyes and clung to him and knew this was the happiest moment of her entire life.

“Will you really marry me?” he asked, his blue eyes as serious as she had ever seen them.

“Yes,” she said, the one word breathed on what little air remained in her lungs, for he’d stolen it with the kisses he’d taken. “Yes, please, Luke.”

They sat together, hands clasped, leaning back against the gnarled trunk of the apple tree, making plans to run away as soon as they were old enough to marry. Kahn lumbered over and heaved his bulk down beside them, placing his heavy head on her skirts and pinning her in place.

“You know your parents won’t allow it,” Luke said after a blissful few moments of sitting with her head on his shoulder. “Not now you’ve got money. So, we shall have to elope,” he said, looking troubled by the idea. “I’m sorry for it, as there will be a scandal. My family has scandal enough, so that’s of no matter, but yours….”

She watched him shrug and knew how badly his father’s disgrace rankled.

“Your family has become wealthy since your father built his mill, and since my father died without making the least effort to….” He shrugged again and her heart ached for him.

As far as Kitty could see, Luke’s mother was a miserable woman who spent a deal of energy lamenting their impoverished position and berating his dead sire, but never lifted a finger to do anything useful. Her only purpose in life seemed to be to make Luke as wretched as she was by reminding him daily of everything they’d lost, everything that ought to be theirs.

“I’ve nothing, Kitten, nothing to offer you, but I won’t be like my father. I shall work hard and earn my fortune, like your father has done. My tutor at school seemed to think I’ve a brain in my head and I won’t let you down, I promise I won’t.”

“I know that,” she said, staring up at him and feeling like her heart would burst from happiness and pride. “And I don’t care how much money we have, so long as we’re together.”

“I care,” he admitted, the words a little taut. He reached out and tugged at a dark curl, winding it around his finger. “I want you to have everything. Pretty dresses, and carriages, and—”

Kitty snorted and shook her head. “Much I care for such things,” she said, giving him an indulgent look.

“You should,” he said, frowning again. “If Father hadn’t ruined everything, I’d at least still have a name worth a damn, instead of his reputation as an adulterer and a murderer hanging about my neck.”

Kitty winced to hear him curse. He rarely did so, but he’d never forgiven his father, and his anger was still palpable. She’d heard the tale, prised out of him a little at a time, once he’d discovered the truth of it. Even out here the rumours had followed them. His father had fallen madly in love with an opera singer, as had another—also married—man. They’d fought a duel and his opponent had died. It had been hushed up, naturally. The Earl of Trevick had seen to that, but they had shipped Mr Baxter, his hysterical wife, and their son off to an abandoned family estate in Ireland before the story could hurt the earl by association. They could return when the scandal had quieted, the earl had said. Except Luke’s father had died three years ago, and Trevick seemed to have forgotten they even existed.

“I love you, Luke,” she said, gazing up at him and knowing he’d be a fine man one day.

Even now, young as they were, she saw this in him, recognised the strength of his heart and purpose. He always seemed far older than she, far wiser too, and she depended on that—on him—to keep her from falling into folly with her wild spirit and impetuous temper.

“I shall love you always, Kitten,” he said, just as solemn.

She knew they ought not say such things, let alone think them, but her parents had let her run amok until recent months, and Luke’s mother cared for nothing but her own comfort. They’d been left too much alone and had clung together until the idea of one without the other was too fantastic to contemplate. There had barely been a day since Luke had arrived that they had not spent together.

The words, once exchanged, seemed to alter something between them, the quality of the air about them somehow different.

“I don’t want to wait,” Luke said, and the vehemence of the words startled Kitty. “I wish we could marry now and go away, far away from all of them. Especially my mother.”

“I wish that too,” Kitty said, a little cautiously. She was unused to being the voice of reason. “But we’re not old enough, Luke. They’d only find us and bring us back, and this isn’t so bad for now, is it?”

She looked up at him and Luke smiled, slipping his arm about her shoulders and kissing her nose.

“No,” he said, though he sounded uncertain. He was quiet for a long moment. “But… but what if we could marry now?” he asked, suddenly breathless, his eyes bright with excitement.