Chapter Thirty-Four
As Peter’s mouth opened and closed like a fish that had found itself out of water, Eleanor stood frozen, mind racing in a dozen directions at once.
What was he doing there? How did he know where she was going to be?
Had Roland been bribed? Was the duke reading her mail?
No. That was unlike both of them. But how? And why?
Did he plan to confront the Captain? What if the Captain was even taller and more muscular than Peter was? Who would win in a fight? Who did she want to win?
What was he doing there?
“You can always be counted on to have the facts,” he said, gesturing to the disease-ridden koala.
“Peter…” No one knew that she and the Captain were meeting. No one except… She pressed her fingers against her lips, trying to keep the sudden lurch of feelings inside. If she opened her mouth, she didn’t know if she’d vomit, laugh, or yell.
He rushed forward, scooping up a dusty bouquet of peonies from the floor. “Surprise,” he said, holding them out.
She didn’t take them. That would have required control over her limbs, which she didn’t have. All she was capable of was staring.
She knew what she wanted. It was the impossible thing she’d allowed herself to dream of only in small snatches, because that kind of hope was dangerous. Now that Peter was standing in front of her, that dangerous hope was fully consuming her.
“Peter, I need you to tell me what this is. Because I can think of only two options. You have been reading my mail or…” Her voice was strangled and hot tears welled. She swiped her eyes before they could fall.
He dropped the flowers and pulled a beautiful, coral-colored handkerchief from his pocket. “Don’t cry, Booklover.”
She stopped breathing. It was true. God, it was true.
The enclosure began to spin, and she gasped, putting a hand out to regain balance.
In a heartbeat, he was there, gathering her into his arms. She wrapped her hands in his lapels, letting his presence steady her as she’d become accustomed to.
She reveled in his warm, earthy scent and let it calm her skittering nerves.
She rested a hand on his chest and felt his rapid heartbeat.
She steadied her breathing, inhaling deeply in and out until his breath matched hers and their heartbeats fell into a unified rhythm.
This felt right. It felt natural. It felt whole.
She pulled away, taking the handkerchief from him as she did. “I wanted it to be you,” she whispered as she blotted her tears. “I wanted it to be you so badly.”
The look on his face was pure relief. He wrapped her hands in his and held them to his lips. “I love you, Eleanor.”
Love. She couldn’t speak. Her heart had taken full command of her body and all it wanted to do was look at him.
He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.
“Before you, my path was duty and it cut straight through a narrow world. You have taught me to push through the underbrush, to find other paths that wend through color, through joy, through experiences that I never thought I was allowed to have. I am a better person because of you.”
She took his face in her hands and tried to imprint the image of him on her memory.
This was the moment she was meeting the man she loved.
Not the last time she’d stood here, when she and the duke complained about the monotremes.
Not the first time she’d opened a letter from the Captain.
It was now, standing face-to-face with the whole version of him.
“I love you,” she said. “This you. The full you. You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I am enough. You challenge me when I sorely need challenging and because of that I am on the cusp of a dream.”
The tension he must have been feeling dissipated. His arms became so deeply heavy that for a moment she thought she’d have to bear his entire weight—a feat that she would manage, because she knew he would bear hers at times as well.
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in and then trailing kisses from her collarbone to her earlobe.
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he whispered.
With a sudden burst of energy, he swung her off her feet and spun her around.
She laughed as she held his shoulders for balance.
As she touched down, that other law of attraction—the one stronger than gravity—took over.
His hands were in his hair, her fingers clutched his lapels, their bodies pressed together.
Their kiss was long, and deep and leisurely.
When they broke for air, he moaned her name. When she gasped, he caught her jaw with his teeth, grazing them along the length of it, turning her entire body into a river of magma. When he turned his attention to her neck, her knees went weak.
She dragged in a ragged breath. They would have a lifetime of this.
“Are you at all angry?” he asked eventually. “Because I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I was too afraid.”
It was the kind of thing she should be upset about, but she wasn’t.
She reached up and kissed him. Softly this time.
Quickly. The way they would every evening when they each came home from their separate days.
“You made the right choice. I would have run as far and as fast as possible, and then look at all we would have missed out on.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “So, you forgive me, then?” When she nodded, his arms tightened around her. “I do require one thing from you as a matter of some urgency.”
She frowned. “What is that?”
He inhaled sharply. “I will need a written statement from you that testifies that I proposed to you in person, properly and not as a statement of fact. Preferably, we’ll have it notarized.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a laugh. “I cannot do that.”
A crease formed between his brows. “You do not understand. I need it. Four copies of it, in fact. One for each of them. I’ll post Rhett’s.”
This time, she didn’t bother to smother her giggle. “I cannot, because you have not. Technically.” She rose to her tiptoes, cupping his face in her hands. “But it’s okay. I knew what you meant, even if you didn’t say the words. I don’t need them.”
She tried to kiss him, but he didn’t return it. Instead, he peeled her hands from him and took a big step away. “I need them, or I will be plagued forever.” He dropped to his knee. “Eleanor Wright, will you marry me? Will you be my duchess? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
Her heart skittered, and energy skimmed like lightning between the goose bumps that covered her.
Apparently, she needed the words more than she’d thought.
“Yes, I will. Did you know that I love you? Did you know that I’ve thought of you every night, in one version or another, since we met? It is a fact.”
He brushed aside a wayward hair that had come loose as they’d spun. “And you are never wrong about your facts. Give me another fact, Booklover.”
Heart full, she grinned. “I know that you and I are going to live happily ever after.”
One week later…
Dear Booklover,
The archbishop refused to issue a special license, even after I supplied your notarized statement. Infuriating man. We will have to wait for the banns to be read. I was hoping to do so in Berwick. That is unless you wanted a London wedding. Will Mabel and Lillian travel?
Until then, I see no reason why we can’t move most of your things over, since they are already packed.
Yours,
Dear Captain,
I have found the perfect building. It has high ceilings and tall windows. The workshop has plenty of space for the presses, and there are two storage rooms that seem watertight. I can store as much fabric as I like and once finished, the books will be perfectly kept.
I have promised Lady Wharton a tour once the lease is signed. Speaking of which, the owner is insisting on your signature. Sigh.
Forever,
Dear Booklover,
I will meet with your landlord, but I will not sign the lease. He will accept your signature. What good is it being a duke if I cannot convince at least one man to move with the times? Rhett has responded. He and his wife arrive in a fortnight. You’ll like Della. The two of you have much in common.
I’ll send a footman tonight to gather the last of your things. I have a surprise for you in the library.
Dear Captain,
I thought my soul was full already, but this… Thank you. It was the only part of me still hurting. However, we may need another bookshelf. I have filled yours and we still need to move the novels from your cupboard.
Dear Booklover,
By color? Truly? How am I supposed to find anything now?
One month later…
Dear Booklover,
By the time you find this, you will be my wife. This afternoon cannot come quick enough.
I love you.
Dear Husband,
I love you, too
One year later…
Dear Captain,
Are you certain you are able to take a month off for this trip? The new hospital will only just be starting construction. There are bound to be problems.
Dear Booklover,
The estates will survive without me for a month. Andrew has everything in hand. I’m looking forward to exploring Paris. Besides, you must have someone with you. Otherwise, I will have to replace our greenhouse with a storeroom, as you cannot be trusted to choose fabric on your own.
Should I replace the greenhouse with a storeroom?
Two years later…
Dear Captain,
The debate must not run over tonight. Do what you must to create order and come home. I have news.
Eight months later…
Dear Booklover,
You are exceptional. Do you know that? Your strength overwhelms me. She is perfect, just like her mother. She has my eyes, don’t you think? Though Winnie and Jac both claim that she has theirs. They argued about it all afternoon, apparently.
Dear Captain,
She is two days old. I imagine she’ll be perfect for a few more weeks, at least. Then then she will grow up to be not-so-perfect, and that in itself will be perfect.
Just as you are. Just as we are.
Yours always,
Booklover