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Because I can’t bear to have her reject me again.
The only times she’d been comfortable and honest with herself and him had been during their kisses beneath the mistletoe. Casting a frantic glance about, he frowned, for there wasn’t a ball of the stuff in the room. And why should there be? It hadn’t been used for guests in some time. “Allow me one moment and then I’ll answer you.”
“But I—”
Without giving her a chance to answer, Stephen dashed from the room, his heart in his throat. If Griffin could manage to declare himself to Nora and win her heart, then he could set aside his pride and his fear of making himself vulnerable to do the same with Lynette. Once in the dark drawing room, he pulled over a chair, climbed upon it, and snatched down the ball of mistletoe. Hoping not to crush the creation in his fingers, he hopped from the chair and ran back into the parlor.
She stood were he’d left her, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, for the room had a chill. The hearth hadn’t been used in ages. “What are you about?” She eyed him with suspicion and sadness as he worked to catch his breath.
This romance business was deuced hard work. “Just this.” More composed, he closed the distance, tightly holding the mistletoe ball in his hand. “Earlier this week I vowed to myself I would win you back in three mistletoe kisses.”
“Truly, Stephen?” Lynette scoffed. She crossed her arms at her chest. “I thought you were more mature than that.”
“Hear me out.” He held up a finger. “I’ve never stopped loving you.” How to say this next bit without making a huge cake of himself? Then he remembered his sister’s words. If there was ever a time for honesty, it was now. “You were the first woman to have my heart, and you’re the only woman who I wish to keep it.”
“But—”
Obviously, she needed more. He nodded. Nothing should be held back. “Over the course of this week, after spending time with you and John, I know more than ever I want to have you by my side for the rest of my life.” He glanced at the mistletoe in his hand, the symbol of love and romance at Christmastide. “I was a fool all those years ago and should have fought for you instead of with you. I should have put aside my pride, hurt ego, and let you know what I’d meant when I told you of my plans.” He blew out a breath, fearing he was mucking it up beyond repair. “What I’m trying to say is that I love you; I’ve never stopped. I want to marry you, if you’ll have me.”
“Oh, Stephen.” A shuddering sigh escaped her. The tears welling in her eyes fell to her cheeks. “You live in London.”
“Yes, what of it?”
“That’s far away from Bedford and my mother. She’s already said she won’t leave Birch House.”
Then she can go hang for all I care. His jaw clenched but he forced himself to relax. “Her ill will aside, I will personally pay the taxes on Birch House and set aside an allowance for her monthly. Then she’ll have no more reason to worry,” he said from around the annoyance bubbling up due to Lady Ruddick’s selfishness. “I suspect she won’t care where you choose to reside once coin is back in her coffers.”
That was the sad fact of the matter, and one Lynette would need to learn sooner or later.
“Oh.” Though her eyes had widened, she offered no other words.
“Doesn’t that change your mind?” he asked in a soft but strangled voice. Every impediment had been removed, so why wasn’t she ecstatic?
“I... I don’t know... It’s quite a shock, and a sacrifice on your part. I couldn’t possibly accept.”
“My dear girl.” Stephen sighed. She’d be stubborn to the end. “I don’t mind doing it for you—for us. Search your heart. How do you feel about me without the cloud of your mother putting shade on that decision?”
For long moments, she held his gaze. Then she burst into tears, which pulled a frown from him as he handed her his handkerchief. Why did women cry over everything? “It’s true. I love you. Despite my mother. I think I always have even when I broke our engagement, even through loving my husband, there was always the thought of you, that someday I might come back and that you’d welcome me with open arms and forgiveness.”
Oh, dear God!The pain that had set up residence about his heart since her mother’s faint suddenly dissipated and left him gasping. “I would—I will.” He came toward her a step. “I do.” When all she did was sniffle and press the linen square to her cheeks, he held up the ball of mistletoe. “Do you require further convincing on my part?”
“Perhaps.” Her smile was a watery affair at best. “After all, you still have that last mistletoe kiss to convince me.”
“This is so.” She looked so fetching standing there, her vulnerability on full display, calling out to his, with hope reflecting deep in the depths of her eyes that he couldn’t bear to remain parted from her. With a groan mixed with a growl, Stephen caught her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers. This wasn’t the tender kiss of a man who wished to court a woman. No, this was the last attempt of a desperate man who hoped to show the woman he loved the depth of his regard, to fully show tell that he was in earnest.
He moved over her mouth with conviction and pleading, memorizing the delicate contours of her lips, teasing with tiny licks at the corners, pleading against their seam with nibbles until she opened to him with a sigh and invited him to claim her. Their tongues touched; the taste of mint lingered as if she’d brushed her teeth earlier that night before wandering the castle. She felt all too right in his embrace and the warmth of her, the floral scent of her was intoxicating. Finally, he wrenched away, slightly breathless, and he was glad to see she was as affected as well.
“Does that help speed a decision?” He could hardly shove the whispered inquiry from his tight throat. Please say you’ll have me.
“Yes, though I’d already made up my mind before that spectacular kiss.” She held onto his lapels, keeping him close or helping her to stand upright, he couldn’t say. “Ask me again, now that I have no doubts.” The love in her eyes said everything she didn’t.
Oh, she’d lead him a merry chase, and he couldn’t wait to follow. “Lynette Hodgins, will you marry me and make me the happiest of men?” The hand holding the mistletoe ball shook with nerves. “Will you let me be a surrogate father to John, teach him all he’ll need to know in order to be an upstanding young man in society and out?”
“Yes.” She threw herself into his arms and he gladly held her to his heart. Finally, after ten years, she was his. “Yes, on both counts.” When she raised her chin and met his gaze, he fell into those dark pools. “Please, this time let us not indulge in a long engagement with the banns read. I’d rather marry you quickly and quietly, for I don’t want the pageantry this time; I only want you.”
Those words washed away any lingering doubt or annoyance he had. Love and gladness replaced them. “Whatever you wish is what we’ll do.” Stephen kissed her again because he could as his heart swelled and sang with victory. Then he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve waited long for this day.”
“As have I.” She snaked her arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest.
