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“She is waiting for you in the garden,” Sophie said with a soft, sunny smile. It seemed they were in on whatever plan Eliza had for him, and James wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not.
“Though Lady Aircourt probably already knows you’re here. We all figured it was you when the commotion started up.” Amberwood gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry about the sorry lot around us.”
“Easier said than done,” James replied, only half joking. He accepted further well wishes from the others before moving on to the terrace doors. The fuss around him had reached an almost comical fever pitch by the time he made it outside. But any anxious thoughts washed away at the sight of the breathtaking garden before him. The space was larger than what was found in most Mayfair homes, and the extra room had been taken full advantage of. Summer flower bushes grew elegantly all around, lanterns lit to bathe them in a beautiful ethereal glow. Every breeze brought a wave of sumptuous scent that curled around him without being too overwhelming. At the centerpiece of it all, standing at the end of the main gravel path, was Eliza. She wore a gown of rich emerald silk that matched the color of her eyes to vivid perfection. Her glorious golden hair was bejeweled with shimmering crystals, and the diamond choker on her neck glittered as she nodded at a group of passing guests, lips spreading in a cordial smile. She was the undisputed empress of this garden wonderland, and the sight fairly took his breath away. The pain of their parting bloomed anew as her eyes fell upon him and widened. He waited for her disdain, for that smile to dip into a frosty frown. No doubt the others present expected it as well, for nearly every soul in the garden watched with bated breath as their hostess began walking towards him. Surely there had been some mistake, and he was about to be publicly ejected to the delight of all. Yet Eliza’s smile only widened as she arrived, a pure fondness in her gaze that floored him.
“There you are,” she said and reached out to lay a gentle hand on his arm. Her voice was loud enough that their audience could hear every word. “I’ve been waiting for you all evening.”
“You have?” was all he could say in reply, too dumbstruck by this turn of events. Their onlookers erupted in a flurry of shocked whispers.
Eliza seemed to pay them little mind, her attention fixed firmly upon his person. A flash of nerves glittered in her eyes. “I may be about to make an utter fool of myself,” she whispered. “But it will be what I deserve for hurting the man I love so abominably.”
Confusion, shock, and elation all swirled around in his brain. Had he heard her right? “Eliza, what—” He snapped his mouth shut in shock as she took both of his hands in hers. Her fingers shook in his grasp.
“Lord Dalton, would you do the great honor of making me your bride?”
**
Eliza’s heart hammered against her ribcage as James stared at her, openmouthed. A shocked hush had fallen over the scene, and for every second that ticked by, she became painfully aware of the scrutiny. She’d just committed a social disaster, and whether or not it became even worse was entirely up to the man before her. But that had been her intention. Sticking her neck out so spectacularly was the only way she could think to convince him of her sincerity, to show him the lengths she was willing to go for their love. And if he said no and embarrassed her even further, that would be an entirely deserved fate on her part. More awkward, agonizing seconds went by without him responding, and her heart sank.
Finally, he spoke, low enough that only she could hear. “Did you just propose to me in front of the entire ton?”
“Yes,” she mumbled back.
“You’ve ruined the entire ball.”
“I know.”
“And you said you love me?” That dumbstruck look crossed his handsome face once more.
If she didn’t feel as if she were about to faint, Eliza might have huffed with impatience. “I did.”
And then, he smiled the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen in her entire life before hauling her into his arms. “It’s a yes, then.”
There was an uproar. Some brave souls clapped, and she heard the distinct sound of the Duchess of Ashford’s voice whooping in the distance. Scoffs of disgust and more than a few jeers vied with the cheer for equal amounts of attention, however. A scandal, one possibly even greater than the event two years ago, had just thrown her entire party in disarray. Eliza cared little. So little, in fact, that she rose on her toes to give James a happy peck.
“We’ll be the talk of the town for the rest of the season,” he teased against her lips.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Let her be the most infamous lady in all of England. It mattered not, so long as she had her scandalous viscount by her side.
