Chapter 33 #2
Luke shook in surprise. “Open the door!” he yelled back. “I am Lord Maxwell.”
“And I am Lord Merritt!” the voice shouted in return, “and I outrank you, and I demand you close your eyes!”
“John?” Luke answered in confusion, “John? What are you … ?”
His friend opened the heavy door a crack, poking his head through the opening. “Just close your eyes, mate,” John’s voice sounded exasperated, but his face was lit up in excitement. “Trust me.”
Luke hadn’t the slightest idea what was happening, Why was John here, and how had he managed to beat him home? But the baron closed his eyes and let his friend lead him through the doorway. “No peeking,” the earl chastened, “we all want to see your reaction.”
I have heard that phrase before. Luke realized. Of course last time, John left, and then Clara …
Before he finished the thought, he heard a swish of skirts. Two, little ungloved hands made their way to his cheeks. “Feel this,” Clara whispered. “I am standing in Maxwell Manor, and my hands are not cold.”
“Clara,” Luke whispered with affection, leaning his cheek against her palm. “You are here.” He could not fathom what was happening. Was this all a dream? If so, he never wanted to wake.
“Is it everything you hoped for?” Clara whispered.
“Oh, Love,” he sighed, reaching out his arms and pulling her in close.
“It is better than anything I could have hoped for.” She lowered her hands and leaned against his chest. They stood there, nestled together for several heartbeats.
As they did so, Luke’s fears from his travels slipped away.
Clara was here. She had come to him. She had chosen him!
He could feel her love radiating through her embrace, even though he had yet to open his eyes.
He pictured the first time he had caught a glimpse of his new home.
He had looked at the surroundings briefly, but all that had mattered was seeing Clara.
If Clara was there, anywhere could feel like home.
“Wait,” Luke whispered into her hair, “isn’t this the part where you tell me there is a cow in the corner?”
Clara laughed. “I had forgotten that.” She shook her head against his chest. “No, I was just going to tell my mother you peeked last time.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Luke!” Lady Merritt’s motherly voice came off to his left. “I cannot believe you would do such a thing!”
Without thinking, Luke snapped open his eyes. “Clara made me!” he insisted, but as he turned back to Clara’s laughing eyes, he entirely lost his train of thought.
The foyer was covered in hundreds of candles, all piled around to bring as much light as possible.
It was bright and cheerful, and really helped Luke see his beautiful Clara.
She wore the same navy day dress she had in the Rosecrest ballroom.
It was crinkled and dirty. She had wilted roses pinned in her disheveled hair.
They looked as if they had been picked several days before.
Her golden locket sparkled on her neck, as the candlelight flickered off of its smooth surface.
But it was Clara’s beautiful blue eyes and breathtaking smile that caught his attention most. Yes, he had never seen her more beautiful than she looked standing in his foyer.
“Oh, by the way,” she smiled, “we have an audience.” She took a step backwards, and Luke let his arms fall back to his sides as he marveled in the fact that she was truly there.
“So,” Clara asked, gesturing to the room, “what do you think?” She stood centered between their beloved Joan and Leopold.
John and his Mother were off to the side, smiling encouragingly.
And while there were a million thoughts racing through his mind, only a few words were needed.
“We are home,” Luke answered, feeling a peace wash over him.
A peace stronger than any he had ever experienced, because he finally knew his future.
He would get to live with the woman of his dreams, to hear her joys and fears, to parade her around to social events, and watch as her eyes lit up with excitement.
He would hold her and comfort her and cherish her every day of his life, and she would do the same for him.
Clara would guard his heart, and ensure he never felt alone again.
She lowered her arms. “Yes, Luke,” she whispered. “We are home.”
And Luke did the very thing he had dreamed about his whole life.
He ran to her, closing the space between them.
Clara wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to meet his lips.
The kiss was long, joyful, and knee-buckling.
Finally, after all these years, their feelings matched, and the love from both parties made it a kiss to remember.
She twisted her fingers in his curly hair, and he tenderly placed his hands on the small of her back.
Eventually, they stopped, gasping for breath as they rested against the other’s forehead.
“Please, stay with me,” Luke whispered, his heart beating wildly within his chest.
“Always,” Clara answered back, looking into his green eyes.
“I love you, Luke. I think I always have; I just didn’t realize it.
” Though in her practices on the carriage ride home she planned to end her speech there, gazing into Luke’s happy face, she kept going, rambling to her best friend in typical Clara fashion.
“I mean, at first you really were like a brother to me, but in a different way than John. He is my real brother, you were more like a brotherly friend? Yes, that’s it.
Not any more, of course. I guess that is obvious, I did just kiss you.
It was nice, very nice. We should have done that before.
Though I guess we have. It was nice then, too, I was just confused.
And the timing was all wrong. Next time you propose, you need to give me a little warning.
Oh, and I should tell you, stupid Lord Gallant—yes, that is his name, though it does not suit him in the least—he posted wedding banns, so I think my reputation is soiled, and the queen hates me. ”
Luke shrugged.
“Can you believe the nerve of that man? Showing up after I had not seen him or heard from him in months-”
“Oh, kiss her so she will stop talking!” John called from the sidelines.
Luke shook his head. “I could listen to Clara talk all day.”
She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “I love you, Luke,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” he answered, handing her one of his white handkerchiefs.
She leaned in for another kiss. This one was short and sweet, and then he took her hand. “Clara Merritt?” he questioned playfully.
“Luke Maxwell?” she answered with a confused giggle.
“This is your warning.” He knelt down, and Clara squealed with excitement.
“Yes!” she shouted before the question was even asked.
“You are a little ahead of yourself, ClaraBear,” her mother chuckled from the side of the room.
Luke laughed, too, and Clara grinned. “My queen,” he kissed her hand. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she answered, throwing herself into his arms as their audience cheered. “Yes, Luke! Yes!”