Chapter 17 #2
“Miss Dubois, I am delighted to inform you that your services as a paid companion are no longer required. Miss Carter has graciously accepted the role of the future Lady Blackwood, so her need for chaperoning has diminished. You shall return to your duties as lady’s maid, and you may speak with Mr. Campbell about moving your things back into your former room. ”
Molly and Miss Dubois both dropped their jaws at the same time.
“Mees Carter ees to marry ze baron? An’ please forgive me, who ees zis Meester Campbell?”
Marco smiled, extending his arm with deliberate composure, and Molly accepted it, her delight impossible to conceal, her eyes incandescent with joy. “That is incorrect. Miss Carter is to marry me. I think she will do the Blackwood title proud in the years to come.”
Miss Dubois blinked in astonishment, her dismay plain as she likely considered the implications of the many sharp words she had spoken when she believed Molly to be inconsequential. Marco noted that Molly pressed her lips together, clearly struggling to maintain her composure.
“And Duncan Campbell, the head footman, has been promoted to the position of butler this morning. He now oversees all servants in this household, hence his new address as Mr. Campbell.”
“Yes, sir.” The chaperon dropped a curtsy.
“Miss Carter, will you join me in the formal drawing room?”
Molly nodded, and he led her down the hall before becoming aware of light footsteps behind them. Miss Dubois was following. Coming to a stop, he glanced back. “It is a private meeting.”
Miss Dubois’s face fell. “You conduct ze meeting alone, sir?”
“I believe that when two people are formally betrothed, the stricter proprieties are somewhat relaxed. Is this not the custom of British society?”
“I … eh … it depends upon ze family, sir.”
“Then I relieve you of your duties in this matter, and his lordship will confirm my decision. We may, of course, call upon you for public occasions should propriety require it, though I believe that unlikely.”
The servant’s face creased with concern, clearly occupied with thoughts of her own reputation. “But, sir … it could take weeks to marry, non?”
Marco paused only briefly before answering. “I do not believe so. I expect Miss Carter and I shall take our vows without undue delay. Why would any gentleman linger when such a remarkable woman hastens the … velocità?” He glanced at Molly for assistance.
“Velocity.”
“When such a remarkable woman hastens the velocity of one’s pulse?”
Miss Dubois frowned in evident confusion. Marco reflected that Molly might not fit the maid’s narrow ideal of a diamond of the first water, yet her spirit, warmth, and courage surpassed such shallow distinctions.
“Be certain to remove your belongings promptly, Miss Dubois. Miss Carter will require her drawing room again, so she may begin preparations for her wedding.”
Molly fairly vibrated with contained excitement, her arm securely linked through his, and Marco allowed himself a brief smile as he guided her away.
Turning the corner, he glanced back to ensure the servant had withdrawn, then escorted Molly with purpose toward the door of his temporary bedchamber, pausing there rather than entering.
“That was … splendid!” Molly exclaimed in a low voice, mindful that they must not draw the attention of any servants, her whole being alight with joy. “Did you mean it?”
He turned to face her as she released his arm, the intensity in his dark eyes sending a tremor through her, as if her very breath had momentarily forgotten its purpose. He reached up to cradle her chin, lifting her face so he might press a gentle, reverent kiss to her lips.
“Every word,” he murmured.
“You were magnificent! I have never seen Miss Dubois rendered speechless before. She forgot herself so completely, she even frowned, despite Lady Blackwood’s strictures against such displays!”
Marco’s brow knit in mild confusion. But Molly had no wish to dwell upon the late Lady Blackwood’s rigid governance, not when there was a future unfolding before her.
How extraordinary to think that she might one day assume the position once held by the formidable baroness, something she had never truly contemplated during her awkward pursuit of the gentleman who now stood before her, the very axis upon which her hopes now turned.
“I believe your former companion may have discovered that treating others as inconsequential can bear uncomfortable consequences when circumstances change. Courtesy, it seems, is always the wiser course.”
“What made you decide?” Her voice was unsteady, overcome by the past few moments.
Watching Marco assert himself so decisively had been nothing short of exhilarating.
For the first time in many months, she felt the weight of constant vigilance lift from her shoulders.
Once married, she would no longer answer to another’s authority, and what a husband she was to have!
Marco regarded her intently, his thumb resting lightly at her jaw, not moving, as though he feared to break the moment.
“You,” he said simply. “I confess that reading Simon’s notebooks stirred my interest. The improvements he envisioned, the responsibility he bore, it all gave me pause. But the true reason I chose this path … was you.”
“Me?”
“You are courageous, steadfast, and keen of mind, Molly Carter. I would have no other, mia bella. With you beside me”—his hand warmed her cheek, lingering with unmistakable tenderness—“troverò l’ingresso al paradiso?”
Her lips parted in a sigh. “You will find the entrance to paradise.”
“Sì.”
Her heart beat fiercely as they held one another’s gaze, the closeness intimate yet restrained, charged with promise.
“I cannot yet claim you as my wife,” he said softly, his tone earnest rather than heated, “but I long for the day when I may devote myself wholly to your happiness.”
Molly swallowed. “And when will that day be?”
His mouth curved into a smile, a little wicked but radiant with certainty.
“Ora,” he said.
Her thoughts seemed to scatter at once, and it took Molly a moment to grasp the meaning of his word … now.
He took her hands in his, holding them between them as though making a vow not yet spoken. The silence that followed was not empty, but full of promises of a future that had suddenly become very real.
Whatever might follow would come in its proper time. And somehow, that knowledge made the moment richer still.
“We need to say our vows,” he said at last, his voice low and earnest, stripped of all levity.
Molly pressed her lips together, her heart fluttering with equal parts wonder and gravity. She could scarcely fathom the depth of the life they were about to begin.