Page 51 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"She would never," Bella said happily.

Bella turned away from him again, raising one hand to shade her eyes as she looked across the sparkling sea, which that morning was a brilliant blue, with only gentle waves brushing the shore.

"Now or never, Captain," George murmured. He sank to one knee in the sand and waited for her to turn back to him.

"It is lovely today, George. I do not think I could ever tire of this view. I may see if my sisters and Mama would like to enjoy some sea bathing later. It seems a perfect day for it, do you not think?"

When he did not answer, Bella turned slowly towards him, her expression first curious and then confused as her gaze dropped to where he knelt in the sand.

"What are you doing down there? Have you found a shell?"

George laughed. He suspected he made a most ridiculous figure, but he no longer cared. He reached for her hand and held it between both of his. "This is not about a shell, my love."

Her eyes widened as realisation began to bloom across her lovely face.

"Bella Darcy, my Princess and keeper of my heart, I love you dearly. These past months have been the happiest of my life. I have grown to know you so well, and the more I know you, the more I love you. I love your kindness, your courage, your intelligence, your ridiculous collection of shells and even that terrible habit you have of rushing headlong into ridiculous situations before anyone can stop you." Her mouth curved up, but her eyes were already shining. "Would you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?"

For one awful moment she said nothing. She only stared at him, blinking slowly as though the words were slowly seeping into her consciousness.

"Bella?" His stomach dropped. "We do not have to..."

He got no further. She dropped to her knees in the sand and flung her arms around his neck. "Yes, you dear man. Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."

George barely had time to draw breath before she began covering his face with kisses, pressing them to his cheeks, his brow, the corner of his mouth and even the tip of his nose as she laughed against his skin. He caught her around the waist, laughing with her, and when she finally found his mouth the force of it sent him backwards into the sand, Bella tumbling down with him in a tangle of skirts and limbs.

For a moment, neither of them made any attempt to get up. Bella lay half across him, warm and wonderfully solid in his arms, one of her hands buried in his hair while the other rested against his chest. George could feel her laughter there, little movements against him as she tried to catch her breath. He slid one hand slowly up her back and drew her closer, scarcely able to believe that he was allowed to hold her like this and that, unless he did something spectacularly foolish, he might be allowed to do so for the rest of his life.

He kissed her again, more slowly this time. Bella softened against him at once, her fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth moved over hers. The kiss was warm and lingering, tasting faintly of salt from the sea air, and when he brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek she turned her face into his palm before kissing him again. George felt something inside him give way entirely. All the careful restraint he had spent years cultivating seemed quite useless where Bella was concerned.

When they finally parted, neither of them moved far. Bella remained draped across him, her hair falling loose around them and her cheeks pink from the wind and his kisses. George brushed several dark strands away from her face, then let his fingers trail lightly along her jaw before cupping her cheek.

"My very own Princess," he murmured.

Bella smiled down at him, still a little breathless. "I am not a princess, George."

"No?"

"No." She bent until the tip of her nose brushed his and kissed him once more, softly this time. "But I am all yours. Forever and always."

Epilogue One

Bella Henshaw was paying very little attention to the ledger in her hands. Instead, she was observing her handsome husband, who stood with her father and Pemberley’s steward, Mr Samuels, around a large table where they were examining several maps and talking with furious concentration.

George made such a better student than she did that it was almost embarrassing, but still, Bella was glad to have someone beside her as she learned about all of Pemberley’s many facets. They had returned to Pemberley three months previously, George’s commission with the Customs Office having come to an end and both of them agreeing that it was time they got to grips with estate matters.

Her father had been overjoyed, although he had shown it considerably less exuberantly than her mother. When they returned after nearly six months away, Elizabeth had greeted them with such squeals of delight and such effusive affection that Bella had been reminded strongly of her Grandmama Bennet, who had been forever going into paroxysms of pleasure whenever her darling granddaughters came to visit.

George caught her eye from across the room and winked devilishly. Bella rolled her eyes in response before lowering them to the ledger once more and making a valiant attempt to continue with her sums.

Less than an hour later, her father and Mr Samuels were called away to deal with some tenant matter. Bella kept her eyes firmly on the book in front of her, although she could sense George approaching before he came to sit beside her.

"Mrs Harwood," he said.

"Yes, Mr Harwood?" she replied in a prim tone.

"Oh, do not come that way with me, Princess. I know perfectly well you have not been attending to your sums. You have been ravishing me with your eyes all afternoon."

"Goodness," she said, trying to contain a laugh. "If I were to do anything so unladylike as ravish you with my eyes, I should hope I might at least do it discreetly."