Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“I can only hope she counted it as a boon that he wasn’t at her bedside. I wouldn’t have wanted him there.” Anne looked up at Richard, studying him. “Is that why your father told you the truth after all these years? So you would know that you aren’t related to Thomas?”
“He told me the truth because my real father’s brother died. Apparently, my father - that is, the Earl - had been protecting me from my uncle, but because he worries that eventually the truth will out, he wanted me to hear it from him.”
“I don’t understand. Protecting you?”
“My uncle was, apparently, a terrible person and fear of him was the reason my mother and the Earl decided to marry quickly and let everyone believe I am his son. As to the second part of his reason for finally telling me, he’s right.
Because documents exist showing that he adopted me, and because someone drew them up, the truth is known.
And the date of my birth and my mother’s being widowed are available, although in parishes deliberately distant from each other.
A secret like that may last for many years, but it’s foolish to be confident it will last forever. ”
Standing before him, Anne looked about at the snow covered, arborvitae lined square in which they stood. A songbird alighted on the top of one of the bushes, chirped at them, and flew off. Anne’s gaze came to rest on Richard’s hand, where it clasped hers to his chest.
She looked up at him, eyebrows raised with a ghost of a smile on her face. “You are not my cousin.”
“No,” he agreed, understanding her assessment of where they stood, and how.
“Why are you telling me this secret?”
“I want you to know the truth.” Keeping her hand in his, Richard dropped to a knee in the snow. “So I can ask you to marry me.”
“Marry you?” she breathed.
“Anne, I know I’m no prize. I’m the posthumous son of a country gentleman, with only a small allotment of funds from the Earl and my military salary to look forward to, but I would endeavor to be a true and loyal husband.
To put you above all others. To seek your opinion, and value it.
More than that, I hold you in great affection and truly, in my heart, believe I would come to love you as you deserve to be loved.
” He applied slight pressure to the hand he held, but not enough that she couldn’t pull away. “Anne, will you marry me?”
“Oh, Richard,” she breathed. She clasped his hand tighter and pulled, urging him to his feet, to which he complied. “Yes. I would love to marry you.”
Joy shot through him, the sort of elation he’d never felt outside the battlefield, in the moment of victory. “You’ve made me the very happiest of men.”
“And you’ve made me the happiest of women.” Anne smiled up at him, truly lovely in that moment.
Richard brought his arms up to wrap about her. He drew her close. It felt more right than he could have imagined. “I long to believe that.”
“But you must believe it.” She pulled away slightly to look up at him. Her cheeks pink, she said, “I’ve always been drawn to you, but you always argued to my mother that cousins shouldn’t marry, and she said I would wed Darcy, and so I never really dreamed to hope I could have you.”
Richard smiled down at her. “I am not only the happiest of men, but the luckiest.”
Her blush deepened. “I-I believe I already love you.”
“And I love you, Anne.”
And he did. Perhaps not with the volatile passion with which Darcy loved Miss Bennet, or the stunned besottedness that, by all reports, Bingley felt for his wife, but love, nonetheless.
Richard loved the woman before him, in his arms, and he felt in his soul that his love for her would only grow and mature over the course of their life together.
Anne gazed up at him. Eyes wide and words jittery with nervousness, she breathed, “Will you kiss me?”
He did, and her warmth and enthusiasm were everything for which a man could hope. A surge of happiness ricocheted through him again, this time coupled with the pleasant balm of contentment.
“Do not tell my mother,” Anne murmured when their kiss ended.
“I should think not. I oughtn’t be kissing you before we’re wed.”
She shook her head. “Not about the kiss. That is, please do not tell her about that, either, but also do not tell her about the Earl and your mother and your father and uncle.”
Richard’s elation vanished as reality made an ugly intrusion. “Do you not believe I must?”
Anne shook her head, suddenly stubborn. “No. If you tell her, she will not give us her blessing. All she cares about is breeding.”
Richard frowned, not wanting to marry Anne on a lie, even if she was right. Lady Catherine believed in bloodlines. She would prefer Anne marry someone with the correct ancestors over someone with the correct temperament.
“Richard, you know I am right about this.” The mulish expression on Anne’s face firmed. “Promise me you will not tell her.”
Richard blinked, surprised to see Anne so commanding. A grin spread across his face. It pleased him to marry a strong woman. “If you insist, we will keep my heritage secret.”
“I do insist.” Her stubbornness softened, and she lay a hand along his cheek. “I’m old enough to make my own choices and I choose you. Telling her will only upset her and lead to years of disagreement and awkwardness between us. Why create so much strife? She simply does not need to know.”
Richard caught Anne’s hand and kissed it. He liked this new, opinionated Anne. “Then I will heed you.”
Anne smiled a smile he was quickly coming to adore. “And if I also advise you to kiss me again?”
“I can only obey,” he said, and did.
They could not, of course, remain in the garden kissing forever, so eventually Richard broke off their second kiss.
He ensured Anne’s bonnet was straight, her curls not too out of order.
He fluffed his cravat and once again offered his arm.
If they emerged from the garden with bright eyes, Anne’s cheeks still flushed and both a bit giddy, soon enough Lady Catherine would be informed as to why and would give her approval.
Richard simply needed to tamp down his guilt and do as his betrothed bade.