Chapter 17 #2
Her fingers clutched desperately at his shoulders, nails biting through the wet fabric of his coat. “Why did you jump in?” she shouted over the roar of the river. “Now we’re both going to die!”
The words tore through the chaos, raw and terrified. The river heaved around them, a violent beast dragging them downstream. Sebastian met her eyes—those wide, panicked eyes he had dreamed of every night since she left—and despite the icy current pulling at them, a strange calm filled him.
“I could never wish for a better thing,” he shouted hoarsely, his voice breaking against the wind, “than dying with the woman I love!”
Her head jerked back, shock cutting through her fear. “What?”
“I love you,” he said, breath ragged, the admission spilling from him like a confession to the heavens. “And if this is the end, then so be it. It’s better to die with you than live a life without you in it.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh that trembled into a sob, the sound torn between despair and relief. The river slammed them into a swell, and she clung tighter, her arms locking around his shoulders.
“What should we do?” she cried, voice cracking.
He gritted his teeth, kicking hard, his muscles burning as the current fought to drag them under. “Hold on!”
She buried her face against his shoulder. The cold bit into their bones, the water roaring around them, relentless and merciless. Even as his arms grew heavier and the current wrenched them farther downstream, Sebastian refused to let her go.
“Hold on!” he shouted, as he saw a heavy branch, half-submerged near the bend, its roots tangled against the bank. With a burst of strength he didn’t know he still possessed, he lunged toward it, catching it with one hand while the other held her tightly against him.
“Grab the branch!”
Maryann’s fingers fumbled in the water before finding it.
Together they hauled themselves forward, gasping, coughing, fighting the torrent that wanted to drag them back.
Inch by painful inch, they clawed their way toward the muddy shore until, with a final heave, Maryann tumbled onto the bank.
Sebastian followed, collapsing beside her, his chest heaving as he drew in air like a drowning man reborn.
She was trembling violently, drenched and pale, her bonnet gone, her hair plastered to her face. Then, with a small sob, she flung herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.
“We could have drowned,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Dear God, we could have drowned!”
“I know,” he said hoarsely, tightening his hold around her. “But we didn’t. We’re alive.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears streaking her cheeks, her lips trembling. And in that moment—mud-streaked, wild, utterly beautiful—he knew he could never let her go again. “Marry me,” he said roughly.
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low, fierce, absolute. “Marry me.”
She stared at him as if she hadn’t understood, her lashes dripping with rain.
“I love you,” he said. “I think a part of me fell in love with you the first moment I saw you in the hallway at Hardwick Manor, eavesdropping.” His lips quirked faintly.
“And when I followed you into the drawing room, I was… disappointed that your name wasn’t among the list of ladies my mother deemed suitable for me.
You’ve haunted me since that day. Every hour, every breath.
I know now that even if I live another sixty years, nothing will change that. ”
He lifted a trembling hand, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face. “I love you, Maryann Winton. Everything about you—your courage, your kindness, your stubbornness, even your damnable pride. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll permit it.”
Maryann stared up at him, her heart pounding, the sound of the river fading beneath the thrum of her pulse.
“Sebastian…” she whispered, her voice breaking on his name.
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that mingled with the rain. “Will you be my lover, my friend, my wife… my viscountess?”
She gave a soft, broken laugh and then threw her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she whispered fiercely. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, Sebastian. I love you so very much.”
He tugged her up his chest, so her face was right above his. “Say it again,” he rasped.
“I love you.”
He kissed her then, hard and hungry. Rain fell in heavy sheets, but neither cared. His hands framed her face, his mouth moved over hers with the fervor of a man who had been starving and at last found his sustenance. She clung to him, her body melting against his.
When at last they broke apart Sebastian rested his forehead against hers. “I swear, Maryann, I will adore you every single day.”
She smiled, her fingers tracing his jaw. “And I will never let you forget that I love you just as fiercely.”
2 days later….
The great doors of Hardwick Manor opened before them, and the familiar scent of beeswax greeted Maryann.
Her hand rested in the crook of Sebastian’s arm, while Sarah skipped happily at her side.
They had scarcely crossed the threshold when two shrieks echoed down the corridor.
Elizabeth and Vivian came flying toward them like small whirlwinds, their slippers skidding on the marble.
“Maryann! Sarah!” they cried, voices overlapping as they flung themselves forward.
Maryann laughed softly, bending to catch them both in her arms. “Oh, my dears,” she said, her voice trembling, “I have missed you so very much.”
“We missed you too!” Elizabeth said breathlessly. “We wrote you letters, but we didn’t know where to send them!”
“And we have so much to tell you,” Vivian added, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama—oh, the countess—has been teaching us the piano, and we have our first recital next week.”
Maryann smiled through the sudden burn in her throat. “Then I shall expect a private performance later. But for now,” she said, smoothing a curl from Sarah’s forehead, “will you keep your sister company? The viscount and I must speak with the earl and countess.”
The girls nodded eagerly, already tugging Sarah away with promises of cake and lemonade. Their laughter trailed down the hall, bright and innocent, as Maryann straightened and turned to Sebastian.
He stood beside her, tall and composed, his cravat perfectly tied, his coat tailored to perfection, his expression calm and unreadable. She, on the other hand, felt as though her heart were a trapped bird inside her chest.
He had not told her why they were meeting his parents, only that it was necessary. But she suspected it was because of their engagement. Still, the thought of facing the countess again made her stomach twist with unease.
She peered up at him, searching his face. “You are very calm, my lord,” she said softly.
His lips curved faintly. “There is no reason to be alarmed, I promise you.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and then she smiled, a touch tremulously. “That does make me feel better.”
They began to walk toward the drawing room, the soft echo of their steps on the marble floor sounding louder than usual.
The portraits of his ancestors seemed to watch her as she passed, their painted eyes full of stern judgment.
She held her head high nonetheless, though her palms were damp and her heart pounded.
Sebastian paused at the door, his gaze finding hers. He smiled faintly, then opened the door. Inside, the earl rose from his chair by the fire, his expression surprised but not unfriendly. The countess, however, sat rigidly beside him, her posture perfect, her eyes cool and sharp as ever.
Maryann curtsied, her pulse fluttering like mad. “My lord, my lady.”
“Miss Winton,” the earl greeted warmly enough. “It is… good to see you again.”
The countess inclined her head but said nothing.
Sebastian guided Maryann to stand beside him. His tone was measured but firm when he spoke. “Mother, Father, I have asked to meet with you because there is something I must make known.”
The countess’s brows arched. “Indeed? Should I be bracing myself?”
He smiled faintly. “Perhaps.” Then, taking Maryann’s hand, he said clearly, “Miss Winton has done me the very great honor of accepting my proposal of marriage.”
The earl’s brows lifted slightly, but it was the countess who reacted first. Her lips parted in shock, color draining from her face. “Marriage?” she repeated faintly. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am entirely serious,” Sebastian said evenly, his voice calm but unyielding. “I love her. I have asked her to be my wife, and she has done me the very great honor of accepting.”
He turned his gaze fully upon his mother.
“Maryann is the kindest, bravest, and most extraordinary woman I have ever known. A single laugh from her is enough to brighten my entire day. She possesses grace, dignity, and a strength of spirit that humbles me. She loves fiercely, without pretense or vanity, and I could never hope for a worthier partner.”
His tone deepened, firm as steel. “I am not here to beg permission to love her—nor to marry her. I state this plainly: she is the only woman I will ever take to be my wife. If that displeases you, Mother, I shall protect my wife—and our future children—from your disdain. I will not have them feel unworthy because of your prejudice. I hope I have made myself clear.”
The countess stared at him, utterly speechless.
Maryann’s heart pounded painfully, but she lifted her chin and spoke quietly.
“My lady, I mean no disrespect, but I love your son with all my heart. I would never wish to bring shame upon your family. If you cannot give us your blessing, I understand, but I promise you this, I will love him faithfully, always.”
There was a long silence. The earl, who had been watching quietly, stood and crossed to his son.
“If your heart is set, Sebastian,” he said quietly, “then you have my blessing. You’ve chosen well.”
Sebastian inclined his head. “Thank you, Father.”
The countess made a strangled sound, pressing a hand to her temple. “I cannot—”
“Mother,” Sebastian said gently. “You need not approve today. Only know that my happiness lies with her.”
The countess looked from her son to Maryann, her eyes flickering between outrage and reluctant recognition. And then, quite suddenly, she exhaled, her shoulders lowering. “You were always stubborn and determined in your ways,” she said softly. “I suppose I should not be surprised by this.”
A slow smile spread over Sebastian’s face. “No, I imagine not.”
Then, to Maryann’s astonishment, the countess stood, crossed to her, and said in a quieter tone, “If you are to join our family, then we shall make the best of it. Welcome, Miss Winton.”
Tears filled Maryann’s eyes. “Thank you, my lady.”
Sebastian’s hand found hers, his fingers closing around hers in a silent vow that needed no words.
Maryann looked up at him, her heart swelling with a feeling so deep it nearly stole her breath.
In his gaze, she saw the man who had defied pride and propriety for her, the man who had chosen her when the world would not have dared.
He smiled softly, tenderly, and the simple warmth of it made something in her chest unfurl. In his eyes she saw the quiet promise of a future built together, a love fierce enough to withstand whatever storms might come.