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“The only pompous man who’s proposed to me lately, sir, is yourself.”
That sent an inordinate amount of relief through him and Mac relaxed. “Where is Wright, anyway?”
“Gone.” She tugged at her hands, but he tightened his hold. “I’m telling you, Mac. It will not work. I cannot accept you.”
“Give me a valid reason, and I will allow you to walk away.”
She smiled sadly at him, tilting her head to the side. “Do you think I can be persuaded to leave my grandmother and sister behind to live in a house with Charles and Miss Pemberton? The woman is hardly fit to run the house as it is. Her trial period proved so while I was laid up with my wretched leg. How can I subject Gram and Pippa to that?”
“They will come with us, of course. I never expected anything else.”
She paused, startled, but then shook her head. “Come where, exactly?”
“Wherever you wish. I will buy the closest available estate if that is what you’d prefer.”
She seemed bewildered.
Mac released her fingers, sliding his hands up her arms and gripping her shoulders. Lowering his voice, he looked to her perfect, plump lips. “Mabel, I love you. I cannot offer you the world. I can offer you a comfortable home, with a husband who will likely have to work his own land. I am not averse to the lifestyle, but you must know what you are agreeing to. I only hope, with everything I possess, that you will agree.”
She watched him through shocked eyes.
“Please, my love,” he begged. “Marry me.”
