“I promise I shall not keep you overlong,” the Marquess assured her, noting the hesitancy in her eyes.
Reluctantly, she gave her consent and he relayed some instructions to the coachman.
Claire watched with some apprehension as the horses clattered up to a rather nice little park that most of the young ladies she knew frequented with their suitors. It was rather pretty, with flowering hedges lining the paths.
The sun had begun to set in the horizon, becoming a dazzling orange ball in the distance. Claire had to squint as she looked out.
Suddenly, the Marquess took one of her gloved hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. His gaze was dark, unfathomable, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“My dear Lady Claire,” he told her in a low, serious voice. “Perhaps you have noticed attentions over the past few days.”
Claire looked at him as her heart began to pound in her chest erratically. For many nights, she had lain in bed dreaming of this moment but now that it was here, she did not quite know how to respond!
“I am yours, Lady Claire,” he confessed. “And I would want for nothing more than to be able to call you my wife.”
Stunned, Claire could only look at him as he stared back at her with an ardent expression. She could not find the words to reply to him. How was she to reply to what seemed like a marriage proposal?
While it was true that she had some tender feelings for the Marquess, having him confess that he wanted her as his wife still shocked her.
“I understand that your father just died and this is a most inappropriate time for a wedding,” he continued. “However, I would like to know who is responsible for you now and who I must ask for your hand in marriage.”
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Indeed, who was responsible for her and Trixie now?
This was the London Season and it was highly expected that a young lady would find her match. In fact, it would be considered quite a disappointment if the Season ended without getting at least one request for her hand in marriage.
Yet, who, indeed, was responsible for her now that her father had just passed away?
She swallowed nervously as her voice came out weakly, “I shall ask His Grace, if he feels it is appropriate.”
* * *
It was late in the evening and his sister had already left for bed after their usual nightly conversation. Of course, he had asked her if she had any inkling of what went on between the Marquess and Claire during their jaunt but aside from the fact that Claire returned unharmed, although quite mysteriously subdued, Suzanna had no idea what exactly happened.
“Claire did not tell me anything,” she had told him. “However, she was strangely quiet all throughout dinner.”
Oliver interpreted those words to mean that something dire must have happened and he was itching to know what.
He groaned in frustration as he let the paper he had been reading fall back to the table. There was no point in trying to distract himself when he was goinginsane.
A quiet knock on his door jerked his attention back to the present. His brow creased into a frown.
Who would be knocking on my study late at night?
“Come in,” he said.
The door softly creaked open and his heart pounded in his chest when he saw Claire, quietly entering his study.
She would never know it but he had been watching her from afar all these lonely weeks, when she thought he was not looking. He had hovered just outside the drawing room, listening to her voice and her laughter, when she was talking to her suitors. He had lingered just outside her bedroom, listening to her bustling about as she prepared for bed.
He had missed her so much and to see her standing before him tonight was more than his heart could possibly take.
“Your Grace,” she called out softly, her voice holding a tinge of shyness. Her dark eyes darted to him quickly before they slid to the carpeted floor. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”
He cleared his throat, afraid that his voice would fail him tonight.
“Not at all,” he replied, gesturing to the upholstered chair Suzanna loved to occupy. “Have a seat. Is there something you need?”
“There…there is something I have been meaning to ask,” she began.
