Chapter Eleven #3
This made James ever more determined to win her heart.
“Do you love me, Gwen?” Because she was clinging to him again and appeared quite comfortable in his arms.
She began to cry again. “It isn’t fair.”
He continued to hold her in his embrace, allowing her to be the one to pull away. Only, she was not pulling away and seemed to have no inclination to do so.
His heart was hers, if only she would accept it.
He sighed. “My offer stands. I wish to marry you. Think about it, will you? Give me your answer whenever you feel ready. All I ask is that you be honest with yourself. Stop hiding in the past. You may believe it is safest, but it is not. Reach for your happiness. I’ll be there beside you every step of the way. ”
She rested her head against his chest. “Thank you, James.”
Was this not a hopeful sign? Yes, it was merely a thank you. But was it not her attempt to take that tentative first step?
“Are you very angry with me?” she asked with a shaky breath.
He gave her a tender kiss on the cheek. “I’m not angry with you at all. Why would you think that?”
Her breath brushed softly against his throat as she glanced up at him. “Because I am such a coward, a frightened spinster stuck in her old ways. But I liked your kisses so very much. And I like the way you are holding me in your arms. Do you wish for honesty?”
He nodded. “You know I do.”
“Well, here is how I feel about you…” She paused, swallowed hard because this admission had to be difficult for her, and then continued. “I cannot look at you without the butterflies in my stomach fluttering. I’ve given them quite a workout since meeting you. Their wings are very strong by now.”
He chuckled and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You ought to trust your butterflies.”
She nodded against his chest. “I do trust them. This is why my heart is so turned upside down. I need to consider your proposal seriously. But this is too important a decision for me to make all at once. I cannot give you my answer just yet because I honestly do not know what it will be. I’m afraid of making the wrong choice. Can you understand?”
He nodded.
“But I will have it all sorted out by the end of your house party.”
“Gwen,” he said, groaning her name, “what is the point of holding this party? I’ve made my choice. I’ve chosen you.”
“But I haven’t made mine,” she insisted.
“All right.” He silently counted to ten in order to calm himself and not show any tension, because she was already looking for any reason to run away.
In truth, this was progress. He would have been shocked had she leaped into his arms and accepted him immediately. Others who only cared for his wealth and title would have accepted him with glee and never cared if he loved them, or if they loved him.
Gwendolyn was too honest for that. She did not care about the trappings of his wealth or becoming his marchioness. If she ever declared her love for him, he would know that she meant it, that she loved him to the depths of her soul.
That she had not outright refused him was a major step forward and gave him hope.
The eager way she had responded to his kisses, or that she had allowed those kisses at all, was also telling.
She desired him, although she did not understand the full impact of her feelings because she was so inexperienced.
But what mattered was that she wanted him, even if she did not understand exactly what it was she wanted him for.
It was enough for now that she wanted to be held in his arms. Kissed by his lips.
Unfortunately, what she was not able to do yet was cut those stubborn threads entangling her heart because her betrothed still maintained a stranglehold on her.
“Let’s keep to tomorrow’s plan,” she said.
“All right. If this is your wish.” He escorted her into the house and upstairs to her bedchamber, making no attempt to kiss her again, not even a harmless peck on the cheek to bid her goodnight at her door.
He was already inflamed and aching to take her into his bed.
Did Gwendolyn have any idea the power she held over him?
James was a cynical widower, a father, an experienced and worldly man above the age of forty, and a former rakehell who knew how to seduce women and make them quiver at his touch. She did not know the first thing about the bedroom, and yet he melted every time he looked at her.
She had the most beautiful eyes, and they were staring at him with a vulnerable longing that shot straight to his heart.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “Fuller knows to have my carriage ready for us by nine o’clock. It’ll take about an hour to reach Brighton. We should be able to complete all our errands by midday and have the chance to amble through Brighton’s seaside attractions before we ride home.”
“James…”
He had started to turn away but now turned back, surprised to be greeted by her soft, loving eyes. “Yes?”
“I liked kissing you.”
He cast her a wry smile. “I know.” He leaned forward and gave her a feather-soft kiss on the lips. “Sweet dreams, Gwen. Dream of me.”
Instead of that bounder betrothed of yours.