Page 15 of A Wish Upon an Earl (A Maypole in Mayfair #3)

T he next day, Jack flexed his fingers in the metal gauntlet as he waited just outside the music room.

He’d donned the full suit, the helmet tucked under his arm as he waited to make his grand entrance.

They’d had to practice a great deal last night and most of this morning.

By the time he’d arrived at rehearsal, late, Sarah had already been up in the tower practicing her lines with Sir Henry.

Any other man might have made him jealous, but he’d had a chuckle at the thought of his ally, Sir Henry, bellowing out the lines of the prince.

Sarah, however, had been unusually quiet, and her long looks and exaggerated silences had made him wonder what she’d been thinking, but he’d hardly had a chance to ask.

One run-through of the lines and they’d have to begin setting up their makeshift staging in the music room, and then do a final rehearsal in the new location.

He’d wanted extra practice lifting a person down. The last thing he wished to do was hurt Sarah again, but she’d hardly looked at him today as they’d rehearsed, and when he’d leaned in to practice their kiss, she’d given him her cheek.

The scandal of the Bumbling Knight he could handle but, if in addition to that, Sarah publicly rejected him. That was going to be painful.

He winced within his helmet as he remembered it was exactly what he’d put her through five years ago. He let out a slow breath.

He’d take whatever lumps he got today, knowing that he’d only gotten what he’d given.

Hearing his cue, he pulled on his helmet and made to enter the room. He even managed to open the door with relative grace as he stepped into the doorway.

A gasp filled the air as he stepped into the music room, chairs arranged in neat lines. Several people pushed back their chairs, but the other cast members began to whisper.

Which made sense. They knew who played the prince and, therefore, who hid under the helmet.

But he didn’t care about any of them.

He looked up to the tower, his gaze meeting Sarah’s wide eyes. Her mouth had formed a tiny O, and she pushed up a little straighter on top of the armoire.

Sir Henry’s narration boomed over the crowd. “Enter our fair prince, hunting in the woods when he happens upon our singing Rapunzel high up in her tower.”

Sarah still stared at him, missing her cue to begin her trill of notes.

He cleared his throat, but she still didn’t start, the silence stretching out over the crowd as she looked frozen on top of her tower. “Hark,” he called out from the back of the room, still in the doorway. “Is that a fair maiden I hear?” He allowed another pause to fill the room. “Singing?”

“Oh,” Sarah said as she drew in a large breath and began a scale. Her voice flowed over the crowd, and with a smile, Jack began walking down the center aisle.

Half the crowd turned to her while the other half fixed their gazes on him, likely afraid he’d send them flying from their chairs.

But he made it down the aisle and in front of the tower without incident, a grin pulling at his lips. Not that anyone could see it with the metal cage about his head.

“Who sings that beautiful song,” he called.

“Oh dear sir, you should not be here. I am trapped by a witch and no good can come of your presence.”

“But I am a prince,” he replied. “A witch is no match for me.”

The play went on, the crowd enjoying his acting within the suit. They clapped and called and cheered when he finally bested the witch.

And then it was time.

He turned to see Sarah staring down at him, a question pulling at the corners of her green eyes.

He stepped up to the tower, the sight of her stealing his breath. “O’ Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

The crowd cheered wildly as Sarah tossed the mass of ribbons over the side of the armoire. He pretended to climb, working his way around to the back of the cabinet, where he was hidden from the crowd.

“What are you doing?” Sarah hissed down at him.

“Rescuing you from the tower,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Very funny,” she said, scooting to the edge. “But you know I meant what are you doing in that suit of armor. Everyone will know.”

He lifted his hands, clasping her waist. His only regret was that the suit kept him from fitting her against his body. “I told you, I don’t care.”

“But…” she started as he lifted her down, setting her lightly and easily on her feet.

“We’ve got a play to finish,” he whispered, leading her back in front of the tower.

* * *

Sarah had spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out what he was up to in that suit.

The crowd of partygoers loved it, of course.

With the party drawing to a close, the identity of the Bumbling Knight had been all anyone could discuss the evening before. And now they were going to get their answer.

At least, Sarah assumed he wasn’t going to do their stage kiss with the helmet still on.

But why?

He could have left no one the wiser about who had made a fool of themselves at the masquerade.

She’d suffered that indignity, and it was awful.

And then she gasped. Because all at once, it occurred to her that he was deliberately sabotaging himself so that he would experience exactly what she had.

It was so brave and thoughtful and completely idiotic.

He was an earl now; he had obligations to the people he cared for. He needn’t be creating a scandal in order to apologize to her.

She’d spent significant amounts of time building Ash’s reputation within society so that he might be the best marquess that he was able.

Did Jack think she wanted this?

“Rapunzel,” Jack said with the helmet still on. “For weeks, I have come to your tower to hear you sing. Your voice is more beautiful than any in the land. I’ve fallen in love with you, and I beg you to please become my wife.”

Sarah looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as she tried to see his eyes through those slits. If only they’d talked in the last few days. She wished she understood, wished she’d given him the chance to explain. “Jack,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he reached for her hand, holding it in his.

“Don’t risk hurting yourself for me.”

He let go of her hand then, and to her absolute dismay, he reached up, working the helmet off his head.

The crowd gasped, and then the room went still. No one even seemed to breathe.

A gentle smile curved his lips, his eyes soft and achingly warm as he looked down at her. “Ladies and gentleman, I need to delay the end of our production for just a few minutes.”

He set the helmet back on the armoire and took her hands in his, the cold metal between them.

“I have another story for you,” he said, looking at her but speaking loudly enough for the entire crowd to hear. “It begins at a masquerade five years ago,”

She felt the color drain from her face. “Jack.”

“I rejected a young girl’s declaration of love, a decision I have come to regret deeply.”

Murmurs started within the crowd. “Oh, this is delightful,” one woman gushed.

“Just wonderful.” Another snapped open her fan.

Sarah felt as though she might be sick.

Jack’s smile grew. “And so I knew the only way to win back her affection was a grand gesture of storybook romance. Something every girl might dream of…a knight in armor.”

More murmurs, echoing louder about the room, but it also made them less distinguishable. Or perhaps that was the blood rushing in Sarah’s ears. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

“Except we all know what happened then. I bumbled the attempt rather badly.”

The room quieted again.

“And so, if you’ll permit me, I’d like to try again.” Cheers rose up from the crowd as Jack dropped to one knee.

Her racing heart came to a sudden and abrupt halt.

“Lady Sarah,” he said, the crowd falling deadly silent. “Seeing you again, I’ve realized that I am in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, but I can say that I never want to live without the light you fill my life with.”

She swallowed down a lump that had risen in her throat. She loved him too. Always had. “Jack,” she managed to push out between quivering lips.

“I know you figured all this out far sooner than I did; you’ve always been a great deal smarter than me.”

A laugh rose up from the room.

“But I’m here now, asking for a chance to be part of your life again.”

“You…you already asked me that,” she said, beginning to tremble. “To be friends again.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He shook his head. “I want to be your husband.”

But she didn’t have the chance to answer, or perhaps her response was drowned out by the wild cheer that rose up from the crowd.

He was still down on one knee, his hands holding hers.

“What are you doing?” she asked, no one besides him hearing her thanks to all the noise.

“This is my grand gesture. My way of making your wish come true.”

“Why?” she asked, even as tears misted her eyes.

“Because I love you,” he answered. “I never want anyone else but you.”

Her heart began to race again. Because she loved him too and because, as she looked around, she realized it had been an amazing grand gesture that honored both their past and her personality. More than she’d ever dared dream. “I love you too.”

“You do?” He grinned then. “Does that mean you’ll say yes?”

She nodded. “It does. Though I wish you hadn’t done this in front of everyone. I’m going to be planning events from now until we’re fifty to undo all the social damage you’ve just done.”

He chuckled as he stood. “On that account, I’m not so sure. Look at this crowd.”

She tore her gaze from his and again looked out over the group of onlookers.

“Well?” Sir Henry called, his voice booming over the crowd. “What did she say?”

The room fell silent once again.

Sarah drew in a deep breath. This was the moment she’d waited for. She’d gotten her maypole wish, she’d found the pieces of herself she’d been missing these past few years, and she’d found her heart along with her future.

After all these years, she’d found Jack. The love of her life. “I said yes!”