Page 28 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

E dward was in a foul mood.

He sat in the drawing room of Alexander and Lizzie’s home, staring broodingly at the fire, feeling every bit the fool.

He had been to the docks.

He had stood there, heart pounding, searching for any sign of her ship.

It was gone. Of course it was. He shouldn’t have expected anything different.

The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, like an anvil pressing down on his ribs. He had been too late.

And now he was here, sulking like a great fool, when he should have been preparing himself to move on.

The door slammed open, capturing Edward’s attention, expecting Alexander to have something to say with such an entrance, but it was not Alexander.

The devil. His brother, William, walked into the room with such ease, that all the frustration since the beginning of the house party came flooding back into Edward. As his brother came forward with a smile on his face, Edward jumped up and approached. But instead of embracing his brother, his fist connected with his brother’s face.

William staggered backward, clutching his nose as blood began to drip onto his cravat.

“Edward! What was that for?”

“You had it coming.” Edward’s voice was flat, his jaw clenched tight. “You were wrong to skip the house party, and you will never— never —do that again.”

William snorted—an unfortunate action, considering his bleeding nose—and let out a low chuckle. “It seems you’ve fallen in love, dear brother. Only love could provoke such a violent response.”

Edward scowled, shaking out his sore knuckles. “Spurned by love is different than falling in love.”

William dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“I am not sure why you are put out. From the way I see it, you should be thanking me that I did not attend the house party.”

“Why the devil would I do that?”

“Because had I been there, you wouldn’t have fallen in love.” His brother was smug. Too smug. “I did you a favor. So you are welcome.”

Edward let out a humorless laugh. “You’re mad. You would have been the best catch. I’d have had to spend the entire time watching every eligible woman fawn over you.”

William’s expression turned smug. “That has nothing to do with it, and you know it.”

Edward narrowed his eyes. “I do not have the pleasure of understanding you.”

William sighed. “We’re always together. If I had come, we would have found ways to avoid the fairer sex, just as we always have. When I mentioned as much to Lady Lansdowne, she suggested I take her row house on the Crescent for the summer and stay there until after the house party.”

Edward stilled, his stomach dropping.

“You were in cahoots with Lady Lansdowne this entire time?”

William shrugged. “It was a perfectly executed plan. And tell me—how else should you have fallen in love with the lovely Olivia if I hadn’t?”

Edward’s breath hitched.

His brother smirked.

“I did not tell you her name.” Edward’s voice was deadly quiet. “In fact, I haven’t mentioned her name to anyone—not even her Christian name.”

William grinned, eyes full of secrets. “She told me herself.”

Edward’s heart stopped.

“She’s here, Edward,” William said.

The words rang through the room, an echo of something he had not dared to hope for.

She was here .

His chest tightened as the door opened for a second time.

And there she was.

Olivia.

She stood just inside the doorway, uncertain, but brilliantly, heartbreakingly beautiful.

Her gaze locked onto his, and for the first time in days, Edward breathed.

“I shall leave the two of you,” William said, then lowering his voice he said, “Perhaps you could try a warmer greeting than you gave me just now.” Then William tipped his head in Olivia’s direction and vacated the room, closing the door behind him.

Edward stepped toward her cautiously, as if she might vanish if he moved too quickly.

“I received your note.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” he said.

“You left without giving me my gift. I thought you didn’t care.”

“Your former fiancé—”

“Is still carrying that title. And I shan’t think of him again for as long as I live, except that I am grateful that I did not marry him after all.”

“I am most relieved to hear it,” he said. “I went to the docks to try and find you.”

“I went to Bath trying to find you.”

“And as for our arrangement …” he hesitated, “I do not wish to pretend any longer.”

“Neither do I.”

Edward’s heart pounded. “I have a better proposal than that.”

She looked up, her vibrant eyes searching his.

Edward took her hands, his touch warm, reverent.

“A true agreement. A real arrangement. One for an actual engagement.”

Her breath caught.

“Olivia,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips, “I will wait for as long as you need. I will wait for you to come back from your travels.”

“You would do that for me?” Her lips parted, her eyes shining.

“Of course I would. I will cherish you. Just tell me I may call you mine. I will wait patiently until you shall come back and we can be married.”

“I do not wish to wait at all.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “Once the banns are read, once everything is prepared, I should like nothing more than to be your wife.”

A raw, beautiful sound escaped Edward’s throat.

His hand slid to her waist, drawing her in.

Her fingers curled into the lapels of his coat, steadying herself, her heartbeat wild beneath his touch.

“You would give up your traveling for me?”

“I would rather travel with you.”

“I should like that above all things,” Edward said. “Then let us be married in Bath.”

She nodded. “That would be delightful.”

And then—finally, blessedly, perfectly—he kissed her.

His lips brushed against hers with tender reverence, a slow, deep ache that had been building for days—perhaps even lifetimes.

The moment their lips met, the world ceased to exist.

No past regrets. No uncertain futures.

Only her.

Only the way she sighed into him, her breath mingling with his, soft and warm, sending a shudder through his chest.

Edward tilted his head, his lips coaxing hers into a kiss that was unhurried, yet undeniably consuming. He traced the curve of her mouth with a slow, deliberate gentleness, savoring her—tasting her like a man starved.

She responded in kind, pressing closer, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his coat, as if she needed something to anchor herself.

Heaven help him, but he was lost in her.

The slow burn of longing that had tormented him for weeks finally ignited, unraveling into something fierce, something undeniable.

He felt her soft gasp against his lips.

He drew her closer, his hands moving to her waist, wrapping around her as if he could hold her there forever. She fit perfectly in his arms.

His fingers swept up her back, his touch feather-light, as though she were something delicate that he could not hold—but could never bear to let go.

She sighed against his lips, and the sound sent a rush of possession through him.

She was his.

His to cherish. His to protect. His to love—for now and for every moment that followed.

He kissed her again, slowly until they were both breathless.

Until he could feel the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

He tore his lips from hers, but only by a breath, his forehead pressing to hers. His hands cradled her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones as he struggled to steady himself.

Her lashes fluttered, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps.

She gazed up at him, her eyes full of something unspoken, something radiant.

And it was in that moment that Edward knew—with absolute certainty—that he would never love another woman as he loved her.

“Edward ...” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the way she said his name—it nearly undid him.

He swallowed hard, stroking a stray curl from her face, his fingers lingering there, unable to break the contact.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low, hoarse.

She smiled, her fingers still clutching his coat, as if she had no intention of letting go.

“Edward.”

And he kissed her again.

This time, it was slow and lingering, a promise woven between each delicate movement, a vow that neither of them had to speak aloud.

Because the truth was there, in the way she kissed him back.

In the way she held onto him as though he was something precious.

In the way their hearts beat in perfect unison.

Now.

Forever.