Page 25

R osalyn pushed open the library door, the nervous butterflies back in her stomach just as they had been the previous day.

It was not because of Lord Coates’ presence, however, nor because of the painting but simply because her brother had suddenly insisted that she go to speak with Lord Waverley at the proper time, whilst he lingered at home.

He had said something about a business affair stealing all of his time from him but Rosalyn was quite certain there was something more to his intent.

This was, mayhap, the time for her to finish her conversation with Lord Waverley.

“Waverley?” She came inside, only to see him getting to his feet, a warm, welcoming smile on his face. “The butler said you were here.”

“Where is your brother?” Looking over his shoulder, a slight confusion came into his smile. “I thought – ”

“I think my brother wants us to speak in private,” Rosalyn interrupted, albeit gently.

“I could pretend that he is being held up by business affairs as he said to me but I know that is not the truth, as I am sure you do also.” A heat rose in her cheeks as Lord Waverley’s eyes rounded, only for him to chuckle, looking away and pushing one hand through his hair.

“Well, given the conversation I had with him recently, I suppose I should have expected this,” he said, walking away from her before turning around.

“Before we get to that, Rosalyn, might I ask if you are well?” His smile disappeared completely as he spoke.

“Last evening, a good many things happened, and I want to make sure you are quite yourself.”

Touched by his concern, Rosalyn smiled and put out her arms on either side. “As well as I have ever been, if not more so, given that this mystery has come to an end!”

“That is good.” He tipped his head in the direction of the fireplace.

“Lord Coates mentioned the passageway that my father showed him, though he did not tell me where it was nor how to open it.” A light sparkled in his eyes, making Rosalyn’s breath catch.

“I asked my mother this morning, and she knew at once what I was talking about.”

“Then you know where it is?”

With a nod, Lord Waverley stepped towards the fireplace, reaching for what appeared to be one of the books on the bookshelf.

The book did not come out of its place, however, but stayed where it was, letting Lord Waverley pull it out towards himself, and the entire thing opened towards them.

Rosalyn hurried forward, her eyes wide as she gazed down into the passageway.

“You did not know of this before? Truly?”

“I did not.” Lord Waverley chuckled ruefully. “If I had, then it would have been the first place I might have looked for the painting!”

“Where does it lead?”

A touch of red came into his cheeks. “To my own rooms,” he said, his eyes pulling away from her. “The rooms that were once my father’s, which is mayhap why I never knew of the passageway.”

A small sadness wound its way up through Rosalyn’s heart and she came closer to him, her hand reaching out to take his.

“Your character is vastly different from that of your father’s,” she assured him, his fingers closing around hers.

“I see that in every way. There is nothing about you that is in any way displeasing.”

“Nothing?” A twist of his lips told her that he did not agree with her. “There is much about my character that I find lacking.”

“Oh?”

“My cowardice.”

Rosalyn blinked, surprised. “Cowardice? I see none of that.”

“I do,” he confessed, reaching out to take her other hand. “Rosalyn, for years I have thought of you. Years , you understand? Ever since you made your come out some two years ago, my heart has filled with an ever-deepening affection for you… and I never said a word to you about all I felt.”

This was something of a surprise to Rosalyn, who had not known before that he had felt such an affection for so long. She could only gaze up into his eyes, trying to understand, trying to make sense of why he had held himself back from her.

“I did not feel worthy of you,” he said, as though he knew her question. “My father was bringing such shame to our family that I could not consider bringing you anywhere near to it! And then, thereafter, when I came to London, the sense of unworthiness pervaded nearly every thought.”

“Oh, Waverley.” Releasing his hand, Rosalyn reached up to press it gently against his cheek, aware of the thrill rushing up her spine as she touched his skin. “Did you truly believe that I, as a bluestocking, would care anything for what the ton might say?”

Closing his eyes briefly, he let out a slow breath. “I let myself believe things that were not true,” he admitted, honestly, opening his eyes. “But then when you told me that you saw me as you saw your brother, any hint of hope died.”

Wincing, Rosalyn set her hand on his shoulder. “I was deeply upset with you when I heard from your mother that you did not see me in the same way,” she said, realizing now why he had said those things. “Now I realize why you could not admit to it.”

“Because my feelings for you were nothing akin to what one has for a sibling,” he answered, a broad smile spreading right across his face. “I think that my mother has known for some time of my feelings though she and I have never talked of it.”

Rosalyn laughed softly. “Just as my brother has known of my heart before I even acknowledged the fact that I might have feelings of affection for you,” she said, with a small sigh. “There were, on occasion, some things that Fairchild said that I did not fully understand. Now , I see what he meant.”

Lord Waverley looked down at her tenderly, his free hand now settling about her waist as he pulled her ever so gently closer. “What did he mean, Rosalyn?”

The way her unfettered heart pulled her to him made her breath tumble in her chest, the promise lingering in his eyes begging her to speak.

“He meant that my heart has always been yours, Waverley,” she answered, speaking carefully to convey all she felt. “I did not know it at first, I did not even see all that was so clear to others but now that I have recognized it, now that I understand it, it possesses me.”

Lord Waverley’s hand pressed hers as he looked down into her eyes, fervent hope now blossoming into joy.

“My heart has never belonged to anyone other than you. I did not know what I was to do, truth be told, for to come to London and see you being pursued by other gentlemen was an agony I could not even begin to imagine!”

“But you shall never have to endure such a thing, I promise you,” she said, moving closer now, closing the small distance between them.

“Waverley, you see me and accept me as I am. You have never rejected me for being a bluestocking, have never encouraged me to set it aside. Instead, you encourage me in it, delight in it, and even correct my brother in his attitude! How could I not love you? How could my heart ever belong to another?”

Lord Waverley began to lower his head but he did not kiss her, as she had expected.

Instead, he wrapped both arms tightly around her and gazed deeply into her eyes, his breath warm across her cheek.

“Rosalyn, you are unlike any other lady of my acquaintance. You are remarkable, truly remarkable, and it is an honor for you to call you my friend.”

“Friend?” Rosalyn’s eyebrows shot upwards and she pulled back from him a little. “Waverley, I thought – ”

Laughing softly, he leaned close to her again, setting his forehead gently upon hers. “What I was going to say, my darling Rosalyn, was that I want to call you more than a friend. I want, with all of my heart, to call you my wife.”

It was as if the world around her came to a stop, her heart forgetting to beat, her body forgetting to breathe.

Her eyes affixed to his, the gentle smile on his lips, the hope lingering in his gaze assailing her heart.

Tears came, unbidden, but as a smile broke upon her lips, they faded into the warmth that now infused her utterly.

“I love you, Waverley,” she replied, her voice steady despite the way her heart sang with joy. “I love you with all of my heart and yes, I will marry you.”

The crush of his lips to hers was unexpected but welcome, not slow and tender as she had thought but fervent and overwhelming. Her hands found his shoulders, then slipped around his neck as he pulled her tight against him, their embrace one of hope, of sweetness and love.

“I love you, Rosalyn,” he whispered against her lips, barely an inch separating them as she clung to him tightly, her happiness complete. “Our future shall be one forged by love, binding us together.”

With a soft smile on her lips, she closed her eyes and leaned into him again. “Together always, my love.”