Page 25 of A Lady’s Guide to Scoundrels and Gentlemen (The Harp & Thistle #1)

S everal nights later, Dantes found himself tossing and turning, struggling to sleep, and looked over at the empty bed on the other side of the dark room. Earlier, Mr. Wegner had said he was close to releasing Dantes as a patient, then removed the stitches, and upon the good news, Ollie had gone home.

It was the first quiet night for a long time and he had secretly been looking forward to it. Ollie talked his ear off every single night and Dantes wound up falling asleep to that, having no other choice. But now? The silence he had always treasured was keeping him awake. It was strange—for years, he had fallen asleep daily to such silence, alone in his home, and it was comforting. Now, in having it again, it was eerie. Unsettling.

He didn’t like being alone anymore. And the realization hit him like Sullivan’s fist.

Immediately, his thoughts went to Vivian. On the other end of the hall she lay curled up in her bed, sleeping peacefully. He wondered if he could go to her in the middle of the night, what she would think of that, if it would be overstepping.

A few days ago, she’d given him the surprise of his life by promising not to say the cursed phrase. He’d been stunned because he knew she didn’t believe in the curse, but more importantly, the meaning of what she was saying in those unspoken words wasn’t lost on him.

And the realization she felt that way sent a wave of terror over him. And that wave of terror remained cemented in place when just minutes later she’d almost slipped.

She probably thought he hadn’t caught her near-error. But he had.

And it had caused nightmares. Vivid nightmares, almost as if they’d been omens. He had visions of her falling from the cliffs in Brighton, visions of her in a sinking boat, getting into her own carriage accident. He kept trying to convince himself they were nothing more than bad dreams—after all, she never once uttered the cursed phrase. But the fear lingered and clung to the air.

How could he go the rest of his life this terrified?

And yet, the alternative was worse. A life without Vivian in it.

That, he was realizing, wasn’t even an option.

He needed Vivian in his life. She made him want everything he had sworn off. He had sworn off marriage, sworn off a family. He had sworn all of that off, thinking he didn’t want that kind of life. But Vivian had made him realize that wasn’t true. The real reason—the reason he wouldn’t admit to himself all this time—was he was afraid he wasn’t deserving of that kind of life. But wanting her overpowered his hesitation and doubt.

He wanted a life with her , to have a family with her , to grow old with her . Everything. With Lady Vivian Winthrop.

And admitting this to himself sent a thrill through him. It was a cautious thrill, but it was there. Scary, but in that life-altering anticipation big change brings.

But despite this, the fear of the curse remained. In fact, it was magnified. Vivian being in Brighton without him there to keep her safe made him uneasy. Plus, Tewksbury would be there. Could Tewksbury, who was arguably a far better mate for her, tempt Vivian away from Dantes in his long absence? Would she come to realize this on her own without him there?

No.

No more pushing away in fear. Dantes was going to have to do something about it. Do something to make sure that couldn’t happen.

He had to go talk to her. Immediately. He couldn’t go another night with everything as clear as mud.

Thus, he climbed out of bed and hastened into the sleepy hallway, barely lit by dimmed gas sconces.

Quickly, he hurried down the hall without making a sound. Up ahead was her bedroom door, the final one all the way at the end.

He approached it. Stopped. Raised his fist.

Hesitated.

Questioned if he lacked intelligence by being here.

Despite this, he moved his fist back to rap on the door gently—when the door opened instead.

Vivian appeared in the doorway and shrieked upon seeing him, then covered her mouth with wide-eyed realization they were both sneaking around in the middle of the night. But seeing her beautiful face after the big decision he had made moments ago reassured him.

“Hello.” She used a proper voice, as if it were the middle of the day, not the middle of the night. As if they hadn’t almost collided at her bedroom door. In the dark.

“Hello,” Dantes responded with a crooked smile he couldn’t hold back.

“What are you doing here?” Vivian asked as innocently as she could.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No.”

Vivian nodded and stepped back to let him in. A candle was lit, allowing enough gold light for them to see.

“Dantes.” Vivian shut the door and followed him farther into the room, where he stopped upon hearing his name. She moved to stand in front of him, wringing her hands. “I simply cannot spend another night away from you. And I know you said you would only kiss me that one time and—”

Anticipation hit. “No.”

She blinked. “And also I know I said something a few days ago that was a rather big deal and we haven’t talked about it again.” A pause. “I’m sorry, when you say no …”

Dantes separated her wringing, clasped hands and weaved his hands in with hers. They stood in the middle of her bedroom, both hands clasped between them, the glow of the lamp surrounding them. It was such a warm, intimate moment.

“Your hair is down,” Dantes realized with a bit of wonder. Vivian’s dark hair, which for the first time he saw was thick and wavy, reached all the way to her waist. He released one hand and ran his fingers through that hair. It was soft, silky, and he was overwhelmed by the desire to make it wild.

But he had to move past this distraction because he had a life-changing question to ask.

*

Vivian shivered under Dantes’s admiring gaze. He was here, in her bedroom! Seeing her in her nightgown. Seeing her hair down!

What had possessed him to come seek her out?

What had possessed them to seek each other out at the same time?

The emptiness she always felt when he wasn’t with her had become so much stronger since they’d made the decision to never say the cursed words. Their feelings for each other had been made clear—as long as they didn’t say them, of course.

But this new step made their summer separation that much more difficult. It would be so hard to be away from him for so long, especially now that they had confessed their feelings to each other.

His thumb swept over her hand, sending tingles up her arm. All this time, she had been waiting for him to kiss her again. It had been weeks of waiting. With many opportunities for him to do so.

Yet he hadn’t.

Vivian had hemmed and hawed over this fact. Did it mean something?

Maybe. Maybe not. But she could always do something about it herself.

“Were you coming to find me?” Dantes asked in a low voice, as if knowing her thoughts. She looked up to find a curious, warm glow in his eye.

Her cheeks became hot at how close they were in this intimate of the moment. “Yes, I was.”

“Scandalous to visit me in the middle of the night,” he teased, but then he moved his hand to caress her cheek. “Why were you coming to me?”

This was her chance. She forced the words out, lest she cower and change her mind. “I want you to kiss me again.” Her heart galloped at hearing those words with her own ears.

Dantes tilted her chin gently to see her better and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “You want me to kiss you again?”

“Yes, please,” Vivian replied, hypnotized by his touch.

Dantes let out a breathy chuckle before leaning down, cradling her face gently in both hands, obliging her with the slowest, softest, most sensual kiss she was sure ever existed in human history. It felt as if gooey caramel flooded her body, delicious and sweet and warm and lovely. Surely, those bursts of light she felt in her heart were fireworks going off around them.

Dantes pulled back and grinned before holding her close. “You taste like mint toothpaste.”

Vivian, slightly embarrassed, grinned against him. “I will admit I brushed my teeth for a second time knowing I was coming to see you. Now kiss me just like that. Again.”

He grinned and obliged, and Vivian was sure they were floating up to the ceiling.

Dantes broke the kiss, but his face remained close. “For some reason, I don’t know, I really like that. It feels right. This feels right.” Dantes wrapped his arms around her waist. “Seeing you in your nightgown, tasting your toothpaste. It feels right to be together at night like this.”

“Oh.” Vivian was disappointed as she imagined what she looked like through Dantes’s eyes. When envisioning romance, she’d always pictured herself dressed in a ballgown with hair piled atop her head perfectly, her neck perfumed and nose powdered. But here she was, in an old, too-frilly nightgown, her hair unkempt. “That isn’t the most romantic setting, is it? I wish I looked nicer.”

“Nicer? No. I wouldn’t change anything about this moment. You are absolutely stunning, Vivian. In your nightgown, or a gold-drenched ballgown, no one else on this Earth compares to you. To me, you are perfect.”

“I have a too-large freckle on my shoulder I rather dislike,” she deflected before looking up with a small smile. In the dim light, Dantes’s scar was more obvious by the shadow it created. She tried to imagine him without it, but it would be like the Mona Lisa without her private smile.

“Nothing on you is a flaw,” Dantes retorted.

“Nor on you.” To make sure he understood what she meant, her hand reached up to touch the scar upon his face.

“You are reaching for my heart,” he said. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you, Vivian?”

“Tell me.” She rested her head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat.

“I think about you far too much,” he explained. “Every single day, every single night.” He pressed his cheek to her hair. “You make me feel…worthy.”

Surprised by his raw admission, she had an overwhelming urge to say the off-limit words. They were in such a tender moment, but she couldn’t say three beautiful words?

Maybe that promise shouldn’t have been made.

“You are worthy, Dantes.” The words came out a quiet promise. “You’re worthy of so much. You’re worthy of everything.”

Dantes put his forehead to hers. “You are mine.” His voice strained. “And I am yours.”

“Yes,” she whispered back.

“Always.”

“Yes.”

“Forever.”

Hot tears began to well in her eyes. “Yes!”

“Vivian…” He paused, as if there were more words to follow.

“Yes?”

“Marry me.”

Shock tore through her. Had she heard that right? “Marry you?”

“Yes. Marry me. For love.”

Her eyes widened at this. Though it wasn’t the off-limits phrase, hearing him say that word filled her with pure joy. “Oh! Oh, Dantes.” She threw herself on top of him and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, overjoyed.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, a warm embrace. He pressed his cheek to the side of her hair. “Is that a yes?”

She laughed. “Yes, of course, yes!” She paused as emotion continued to flood her. “I want to say it so bad. I won’t, but I need you to know I want to say it so bad right now. I feel it for you, in my heart and in my soul.”

Dantes didn’t respond to this and instead placed her in bed, and to her amusement, tucked her in. He climbed in next to her and for a long while they lay there, snuggling close, coming down from the joyous moment. He kissed her hairline gently again as she drifted off to sleep, ignoring the ache in her heart.