Two days ago, he’d been willing to wait. To be cautious. To acknowledge and bow to the risks inherent in precipitate action. But in agreeing to wait until they reached safety before seizing the chance to secure the future he wanted, he hadn’t been true to himself.
Practicing caution and not taking risks simply wasn’t him. Life was too short, and he knew that to his bones. More, reining in his compulsion to secure what he needed once he’d decided he needed it grated on his nerves.
Like trying to hold back the tide, it was a futile endeavor.
The events of the day and his reaction to them had stripped the scales from his eyes.
He knew what he needed to create the future he was now determined to have, and the compulsion to seize and secure the elements required to make that future a reality had grown and swelled and was now a persistent, insistent drumbeat in his blood.
The tense moments when they hadn’t known where Evelyn was, her spontaneously calling him “Papa” and looking at him with eyes full of hope and joy as if he was her savior—what he’d felt in those moments and the intensity of those feelings were indelibly etched on his brain and utterly impossible to ignore.
Courtesy of the day’s events, not acting was no longer an easy option.
He knew Diana was near before she stepped onto the patio.
She drew closer, and her fingers trailed over his shoulder, then, gathering her shawl about her, she sat in the chair to his left, at the end of the table.
Through the moonlit shadows, he met her gaze.
She studied him for several long moments, then asked, “What is it?”
Her directness was a relief. He thought of how best to answer. Until recently—since he’d come to know her—he would have conveyed his meaning without unequivocally stating it, yet given what he ultimately wanted to secure, instinct insisted that, with her, cloaking the truth wasn’t the right way.
Her question had been direct. If he wanted a life with her, and he did, then he owed her honesty and clarity in return.
“The Evelyn-induced events of the day have… forced me to readjust my thinking.”
Her gaze still locked with his, she tipped her head. “In what way?”
“I haven’t changed my mind about sharing my future life with you—and subsequently, possibly, the children. That aim hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s grown more definite, more set in stone.” He paused, holding her gaze, then drew breath and went on, “What has changed is… the urgency I feel over taking the next steps to secure that future.”
Her brows rose, and she studied his eyes, his expression.
Before she could speak, he went on, “I know I agreed to wait until we’re safely in England before making any final, irrevocable decision. In reality, I’m constitutionally incapable of adhering to such a plan. I’m inherently reckless in the sense of being quick to take calculated risks. Not any risks, but those I can see will advance my cause, whatever that cause happens to be. You could with truth say I’ve built a career on that facility, on swiftly and correctly calculating odds and, whenever they’re to my advantage, seizing them.”
He shifted to fully face her. “The truth is that I have to step forward. I don’t want to step back, but neither can I remain stationary, waiting until safety is guaranteed before moving ahead. That’s simply not me.”
She hadn’t shifted her gaze from his. “I see.”
He grimaced and confessed, “The compulsion to move forward is far stronger than mere impatience. It’s eating at me, prodding and pricking and demanding I act because I know—know—what I want and need.” He drew breath and exhaled. “And after today, I’ve seen—been forced to see and recognize—too much of my true self to even pretend to ignore the revelations and, more, what they mean.”
Diana regarded him questioningly. “You want to…?”
“Act to secure what I know I need to build my most-desired future life.” He sat up and captured her hands in his. “That means you. I need you.” He met her gaze directly. “First, foremost, and above all else, I need you.” Holding her gaze, he raised one hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Diana Locke, from this moment on, are you willing to link your life with mine? Are you willing to take the plunge and accept whatever risks lie ahead and, hand in hand with me, go forward and see what sort of future we can create?”
It was a proposal, clearly articulated and quite definite. A proposal that made Diana’s heart soar.
Of course, he capped it with, “I need to know. And I need to know now.”
And in that, he was entirely sincere.
The impulse to laugh and joyously accept was very real, but she owed herself a moment to think.
She looked into his eyes and, beneath the confidence, the sophisticated certainty, saw vulnerability slinking. He hoped, very strongly hoped, that he’d read her aright, but until she spoke, he couldn’t be sure.
But to explain as he had and take the risk of revealing himself, his understanding of himself, to her was telling—that was determination and commitment made manifest.
In a flash, her mind scrolled through all she’d learned of him—the assurance, the practical drive, the arrogance, the inherently dominant personality, all balanced by his instinctive caring, the innate protectiveness for those weaker than he, and the deeply rooted family feeling that even he now recognized.
