The Baron Next Door (Prelude to a Kiss) (26 page)

Nodding briskly, Hugh said, “Yes, I’m fully aware of the conversation I must have with him. But before I did anything, I had to gain your forgiveness . . . and hopefully your hand, however tentatively. Did I succeed?”

She nodded, sniffling even as she smiled. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he repeated, his eyes sparkling brilliantly in the shifting sunlight.

“Yes—on both accounts.”

Yanking her into his arms, he swallowed her up in a tight embrace, laughing as he did so. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips, making her positively melt into him. It was over all too soon, as he pulled away and straightened with purpose. “I suppose it is time for me to speak with your father.”

He squeezed her hand before releasing her, and a part of her mourned the loss of his touch. Already anxiety was eclipsing her joy of a moment ago. She knew her father; she couldn’t imagine him being receptive in the least. Especially not after she had agreed to his plans. And, perhaps worse than that, she had never even mentioned Hugh to him. She stifled the urge to groan aloud—this was
not
going to go well.

Hugh stepped back, then brightened when he looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and one more thing I hope you will forgive,” he said, tipping his chin in the direction of the arbor.

She turned to see Grandmama walking toward them on the path, her gown visible through the climbing rose branches. Charity swiveled back to face him. “Yes, I was wondering how she fit into things.”

“I arrived two days ago and have been staying at the Heath and Heather. I couldn’t very well just show up unannounced, so I took the liberty of sending Lady Effington a note.” He glanced at her again and smiled. “She was always quite sympathetic to me, I think. She helped me determine the best time to talk with you.”

Two days! How had her grandmother kept such a secret? She wondered now if she’d been watching Charity, looking for signs that she’d be amenable to his suit. Had the new piano piece played a part in her decision?

They waited until Grandmama reached them, and then Hugh offered them both an arm as they went around to the door. Charity’s heart pumped wildly as worry and excitement and all sorts of other emotions built within her.

What happened next truly would determine the rest of her life. Hugh looked down at her then and smiled, confidence coming off him in waves. “Have faith, sweet Charity. If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s being stubborn.”

For the first time since she’d known him, she fervently hoped that was true.

H
e should have been worried. He should have been anxious. He probably should have been doubting his own wisdom, judging by the thunderous look on Lord Effington’s face.

But Hugh was none of these things.

At that moment, he had the sort of clear-eyed, razor-sharp lucidity that he hadn’t experienced since his days as a commanding officer. It was usually right before battle, when everything was at stake and he alone had to make a decision. In those moments, his vision seemed to narrow to only the things that were of the utmost importance, and at that exact moment, the thing he saw most clearly was Charity.

Or, more specifically, the future he desired with her.

Facing his combatant, he offered a respectful nod. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for my regrettable timing, my lord, but following my conversation with your daughter before her departure, I felt that time was of the essence.”

Hugh’s one advantage was his height, which prevented Charity’s father from glaring down at him, as he so obviously wanted to do. Standing with one hand gripping the edge of the library’s small mantel, Effington’s dark gaze bore into him. “Time was of such essence that you couldn’t allow my family to grieve in peace during this difficult time?”

Hugh had to tread lightly here. He couldn’t risk alienating the man, but he wanted the viscount to know exactly where he stood. “It was my understanding that if I waited much longer, Miss Effington’s affections might be pledged elsewhere.”

Silence. The older man pressed his lips together, clearly displeased that Hugh possessed this particular piece of knowledge. “Say your piece so we can be done with this business.”

Nodding, Hugh looked him directly in the eye. “I’m in love with your daughter, my lord, and I have come to ask your permission to seek her hand.”

Effington’s knuckles whitened on the mantel, and Hugh fleetingly wondered if the marble would crumble beneath his grasp. The older man’s nostrils flared as he shook his head. “I know absolutely nothing about you, save for your name and your appalling disregard for propriety. That, sir, does not recommend you or your purported love.”

It was a valid point. Effington knew nothing about him and had every right to be dubious of him. “Then allow me to expound. I recently inherited the Cadgwith barony. The estate earns more than five thousand a year, boasts three miles of private shoreline, and features a house fit for a king—literally. It was renovated in advance of King George the Second’s 1750 visit, to be worthy of His Majesty’s presence.”

Lord Effington’s steely countenance offered no encouragement, but Hugh plowed on. “I served for three years in the service of our king as an officer in the army during the war. I know what it means to fight for what you believe in. I know that there is only one thing in life that truly matters when everything is stripped away: love. Love of country, love of family, and, most powerfully of all, the love of the woman who holds your heart.

“After I was seriously injured at Waterloo, I sold my commission and returned to Cadgwith. But I have never forgotten those lessons learned on the battlefield. I may not be able to make Charity the next Lady Effington, but I can cherish her every day for the rest of my life. I can love her and give her children and spend my every breath in the pursuit of making her happy.”

Hugh took a step forward, wanting the viscount to see his earnestness and hear his resolve. “I swear to you, on my honor, that she shall never want for anything as my wife. She shall have the choice to travel as much as she chooses, the freedom to invite anyone she wishes to our home, and the ability to play and create her music to her heart’s content. She’ll have status, respect, and, most especially, love. I come to you, with all due respect, my lord, to ask for her hand in marriage.”

Silence reigned for the space of several seconds, each one ticked off by the jarringly loud clock in the corner. The viscount’s features were grim, his mouth pinched in displeasure. “I cannot allow it. This so-called love is entirely new to me, sir. I think you overstate my daughter’s affections. She never once mentioned you, not even when discussing possible suitors not one week ago.”

The door swung open then and Charity sailed into the room, her cheeks already flushed before she even said a word. “That is a mistake that I wish to rectify immediately.”

*   *   *

Charity’s blood thundered in her ears as she held her head high, meeting her father’s rounded eyes. She had never, ever stood up to her father before. Even after breaking her betrothal, she had confessed her sin with great regret. If she’d had to ask permission, she would probably be married to Richard today. But for Hugh, she could do this.

Her joy at hearing his words, at knowing the way he was standing up for them, had nearly brought her to tears. Even now she didn’t dare look at him, for fear she’d be overwhelmed. Today she had finally seen the officer that he had been. The proud, honorable soldier who had sacrificed so much was still alive and well in him, if a bit worse for the wear. This was the man she had sensed in him, even when he’d lost sight of it himself.

She drew a deep breath and approached her father. “I wish to marry him, Papa. He is the man I always dreamed I would find. He is honorable and selfless and willing to admit when he is wrong. I feel whole when I’m around him, as though some long-barren place in my heart is filled when he is with me.”

Shoulders stiff and face stern, her father sliced a hand through the air. “Charity, this is not the time or place to be discussing this. This man has put us all in an untenable situation, and I will not allow this to continue.”

“
He
is not the one to put me in an untenable situation,” she said, hardly able to believe she was saying such a thing to her father. But she couldn’t be silent anymore, not when so much was at stake.

Reaching out, she took her father’s hand in hers, willing him to see the sincerity in her eyes. “I love you, and I wish to honor you, but I will never be able to fix the fact that I was not born a son. I beg you, release me from my promise to pursue Mr. Burton, and let me marry the man I love instead.”

Papa blinked several times, his eyes darting back and forth between Charity and Hugh. She gently squeezed his hands, forcing herself to remain silent, to give him a chance to process what she had said.

Finally, his dark gaze settled on hers. His nostrils were wide with affront, but his eyes held the first hints of indecision. “You would rather move to the end of England, hundreds of miles from your mother and me, and give up the life and lands you have always known, than wed Mr. Burton and know that your future and that of the viscountcy were settled?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Papa. The title will always be in flux. As you well know, there is no guarantee that I would have a son. What I can guarantee is that I would be miserable if I married Mr. Burton. I will always know that my heart is elsewhere, and would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Papa’s jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes, studying her. “And if I forbid a match with Cadgwith?”

Charity’s heart squeezed as she drew a desperate breath at the very thought. Her eyes darted to Hugh’s, and he held her gaze but didn’t interject. Slowly, she turned her attention back to her father. The first man she had ever loved. The first man she had ever disappointed. The man she wanted so much to please, but who may try to stand in the way of her happiness.

She looked down at his hand, still held in her own. Could she ever really choose between her father and the man she loved? Even as she thought the words, she knew what she had to say. Raising her gaze, she entreated him, “I love you, Papa. And I love Lord Cadgwith. I should hope that neither of you would ever stand in the way of my love for the other.” Her dulcet tones echoed the low, sweet melody of the song she had composed for Hugh, the one she had titled “Shadows in the Dark.”

“Well said, my dear.” Grandmama’s voice cut straight through the tension in the room. They all turned to the doorway where she stood proud and tall, despite her diminutive form. “Marcus, I have been wrong about many things in my life—including where my granddaughter’s affections might lie,” she said with a brow raised in Charity’s direction, “but of this I know I am absolutely right: There can be no regret when love prevails.”

Papa pulled his hands away and stepped back. “Mother, this is none of your concern. Please leave it for—”

Mama appeared behind Grandmama, her hands firmly on her hips. “For whom? For us?” Her apple cheeks nearly matched her red hair. Charity’s heart swelled—her mother always avoided conflict.

“Catherine,” Papa exclaimed, surprise widening his eyes. Neither his wife nor daughter had ever stood up to him or challenged him in any way.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but it seems as though this is to be a family discussion.” She paused, setting her gaze directly on Charity. For her part, Charity didn’t look away. Instead, she poured all of her emotions into her expression: hope, determination, and, most of all, love. She wanted to share it all with her mother, for her to know and understand exactly how Charity felt.

Drawing a steadying breath, her mother stepped around Grandmama and went to her husband’s side. “Do you remember Charity’s relief last year when she parted ways with Lord Raleigh? Yes, I’ve been eager for her to find a match, but I knew it couldn’t be just anyone. I kept hoping she’d find someone who would make those beautiful eyes light up.”

She linked an arm with him and resolutely turned them both to face Charity straight on. “Well, look at her now, Marcus. Can you be the one who steals the light from her eyes? Because I confess, I cannot.”

Papa looked at her for a long moment, really
looked
at her. So many things flickered in his expression, she didn’t know what to think. She held her breath, accepting his inspection, and prayed he would be persuaded instead of angered by their arguments.

Finally, he pressed his eyes closed and exhaled a long breath. When he opened them again, his answer was there in his resigned gaze as he looked around at the gathered crowd. “Very well,” he said, his tone flat. “If it is your wish, I will not stand in your way. When we return home, I shall have the contracts drawn up.”

Disentangling himself from his wife’s loose hold, he strode from the room, leaving them in shocked silence. For a moment, all Charity could do was stare after her father, listening to the pounding of her own heartbeat.

She had won. She had actually won.

Slowly, savoring the burn of anticipation unfurling in her belly, she turned her gaze to Hugh. His eyes were shining, absolutely glowing with the happiness that seemed to radiate from deep within. He was hers at last!

“Well, then,” Grandmama said, chuckling softly, “I think perhaps you might like a moment alone with your betrothed.”

Her betrothed. Tears of joy pricked her eyes as she smiled. “Mama, Grandmama, I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.”

“Just be happy, my dear,” Mama said, swallowing her up in a warm hug. “I should have done something sooner. I knew from my time here that you and Mr. Burton wouldn’t suit. Forgive me?”

“Of course,” Charity replied, giving her an extra squeeze before pulling away. “I know how much it took for you to come in here like that. It means the world to me.”

“Yes. Well, your grandmother is right,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled. “We’ll give you two some time alone.”

Within moments, they were gone, and Charity was alone with Hugh at last.

When she turned to him, he opened his arms to her, and she rushed into them.

His lips found hers as they embraced, and they kissed as though they weren’t standing in the middle of Mr. Burton’s guest library. As though the door wasn’t wide-open, and broad daylight didn’t illuminate the room’s every corner.

She clung to him, nearly weeping with joy as they held each other tight. The kiss was bold and unapologetic, more powerful than any they had yet shared. No more hiding in darkness. No more lurking around like thieves in the night.

He was hers and she was his, and from that moment on, they would face everything the world had to throw at them together. Finally, Hugh pulled away and smiled down at her. “After the way we began things, I should have known I had a warrior on my hands, but still, you impressed me.”

She smiled and rose on her toes to kiss him again, breathing in his wonderful scent. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”