Chapter 14 #3
He traced his fingers slowly up her waist, sending a trail of chills along her skin, before pressing one hand firmly against her lower back while the other cupped her breast. On instinct, she pushed her hips into his and arched against the touch.
The kiss was utterly breathtaking, consuming her like the most intoxicating wine. A heartbeat later, he broke it, lips parting from hers with a soft reluctance as they both struggled to catch their breath.
“Evelyne,” Alaric began, his voice low, but the solemn sincerity in his eyes made her heart stutter.
His expression was so grave that a chill of doubt ran down her spine. He didn’t want this, did he? Panic clawed at her thoughts. Had they crossed a line? What if he didn’t feel the same way she did? She was sure he wanted this—she’d felt it, felt him.
But what he said next sent her reeling, so much so that she almost fell off the edge of the desk.
“Marry me,” he whispered.
The weight of the words hit her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her wholly stunned. “What?” she breathed, her voice still uneven as she tried to steady herself, her heart racing with shock.
But he didn’t falter, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek. “I desire nothing more,” he said quietly, “than to make you my wife.”
A rush of emotion overwhelmed her: dizziness, joy, disbelief. The thought of a lifetime with him, her closest friend, a good and kind man, felt almost too perfect to be real.
Slowly, she shook her head in amazement. “Why?”
He stepped back slightly, his confidence dimming momentarily as vulnerability crept into his expression.
“Because it is you I wish to stand by my side, and to love. This is how I have always wished to feel,” he said, swallowing.
“To want someone so completely… and to be wanted in return. I would not see this moment end. It is all I ever hoped for.”
A genuine smile softened his features, and when Evelyne met his gaze, she saw the truth shining in his eyes.
She pushed off the desk and stood slowly, her heart swelling as she held his stare. “I’d love nothing more than to marry my truest friend.”
She smiled and lifted her hands to cradle his face, then leaned in and kissed him softly. She sensed the faintest tension in him at her words, yet whatever doubt lingered quickly faded as he kissed her back.
***
Evelyne hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that conversation with Alaric until it happened.
She had entered his estate feeling vulnerable, her heart weighed down by worry for Cillian’s fragile state and the hovering fear of what Ivan had done to her.
But by the time she left, those emotions had transformed into something entirely different: comfort, admiration, and a deep sense of connection.
Engaged.
The word echoed in her mind, almost foreign in its reality.
Had this truly happened? It felt like a dream that had unfolded so effortlessly and perfectly that she feared she might wake to find it stolen away.
The way Alaric kissed her felt like a dance, as if they knew instinctively where to step, turn, and move together in perfect harmony.
So she had said yes—because he was her friend, because his touch felt right, and because, at that moment, she couldn’t imagine saying anything else.
He’d asked if he could speak with her father, and she readily agreed, offering him a smile that felt as natural as breathing.
Of course. In truth, she was relieved that Alaric would be the one to break the news to her parents—far better than her enduring her mother’s inevitable shrieks of excitement or the stiff nod of approval from her father.
Tomorrow night at the ball, they would be seen together for the first time as an engaged couple.
But the thought did not fill her with fear.
Society would talk, and whispers would follow them through the ballroom like a shadow, but she would endure it, because it was him she would be tied to. No one else.
And if nothing else, this would undoubtedly keep Ivan Bavrick from so much as looking her way.
He was a vile creature, but with Alaric at her side, she could finally put him behind her, a chapter she would never have to revisit.
She only hoped he would have the decency to avoid the gathering entirely.
Alaric walked her to the carriage, his fingers lingering on hers just before she stepped inside. “I’ll come to your estate later this evening and speak with your father.”
Evelyne only nodded, her heart so full she could barely find words.
It was a necessary formality, a meeting between men, like a business arrangement in some ways.
But she refused to let that notion dim the quiet elation swelling inside her.
She didn’t care about its propriety. All she cared about was him.
She could hardly contain her smile on the ride home, warmth still tingling along her skin where his lips had touched her.
The world outside the carriage seemed brighter and lighter, as if it had been caught up in the magic of this moment.
She was completely smitten, like a starry-eyed fool in a romantic tale.
The second she stepped into her chambers, Seraphine took one look at her face, at the flush in her cheeks and the unmistakable glow in her eyes, and she knew.
“You have news,” she murmured. “Good news.”
Evelyne’s throat tightened, her joy spilling over as she took her dearest companion’s hands.
“Yes,” she whispered, then let out a breathless laugh. “Yes, I do.”
Tears shimmered in Seraphine’s eyes before she embraced Evelyne, holding her as tightly as a mother might. Evelyne closed her eyes, resting against her, absorbing the quiet, unconditional love in the gesture. It was a moment she had never had with her mother, a moment she had never dared to expect.
She cherished it.
“He’s a fine man, dear,” Seraphine whispered, brushing back a loose strand of Evelyne’s hair. “I am so very happy for you.”
And as Evelyne clutched her handmaid’s hands, she realized she had never been happier herself.