Chapter 25
“And when she accepted his proposal, promising to be the property of one man, her only thought was that the one who slid his ring on her finger was the wrong one. The image of Lord Swindle played in her mind. She had had only so many options and love, happiness, wasn’t one of them.”
Adelaide, Chapter 14
Fitz had planned it all perfectly. He’d danced with her in the grand ballroom, their bodies pressed close together, yet never touching closely enough.
Like some dizzying drug that never brought the high that it promised.
Heads had swiveled alertly in their direction, Noelle felt she should have given a care before so publicly accepting an open display of his intentions.
The feral grin on his face underneath the light of crystal chandeliers told her, and everyone else looking, he wanted all of London aware.
Even when she was shy and reluctant, he held her tighter, stayed closer to her side as though her reticence made him want her all the more.
When he’d let her go one final time, as the music had faded, he had mouthed to her: “ten minutes,” and motioned toward the terrace doors.
She had enlisted her sister’s help, and Olivia had executed some impending catastrophe so that the rest of her family was distracted.
She met him at the terrace doors punctually.
“Follow me,” he had whispered into her ear, impatient to leave the prying eyes of London’s titled and elite so that he could make her his.
The night air was cool but not unwelcome after the crush of bodies in the ballroom.
She held tight to his hand and followed him to the maze, giggling her reply: “Where are you taking me, my lord?”
Turning abruptly to smirk down at her, he’d written the words against her flesh with a fever of kisses: “To make you my own.”
And then, he had pulled on her hand once at the entrance of the garden, again leading her deeper into the maze.
Her heart had nearly burst straight out of her chest, her cheeks aflame with excitement.
Fitz. Her Fitz.
Proposing to her in her family’s gardens while the rest of London danced inside the ballroom.
In all her dreaming and scribbling, she hadn’t concocted a romance as fanciful as this.
He pushed through the hedge until he found a piece of red string and followed the braided cord along the hedge of the maze.
He propelled her in front of him, placing the red cord in her hands, occasionally dropping kisses and words of admonishment at her skin, her neck, her ear.
She hummed with nervous anticipation over where the cord, her Fitz, this night, led.
It found her and drew out all her breath.
There, in a square platform at the center, were candles, flowers, blankets, and a chilled bucket of champagne. The red cord tracked to the other side, leading the way out of the maze.
“It’s just like Adelaide helping her lover escape the gallows…and Ariadne and the minotaur that inspired it! You did all of this? For me?”
“I would do anything for you,” he punctuated the words with a meeting of lips, the silken sighing of breaths that mingled into co-ownership.
He pulled her down to sit on one of the blankets, wrapping her up in the other to protect her against the cool air.
He pulled on the covering to bring her closer.
One hand snaked up to cradle her jaw while the other held her protected in the woven covering, “Will you answer a question for me?”
She stared back at him, the full force of her affection surely in her eyes because she’d always been told she had large, expressive eyes; and if they ever had emotion to express, it was now, here, with him on this night.
“Will you let me surprise you,” he asked, placing a kiss along her jaw, “Honor you,” another where her neck met shoulder, “Protect you,” he pleaded with a final kiss at her decolletage, “Love you,” he said as he met her eyes, “For the rest of our days?”
Had he said “love”? The flutterings beckoned at her again to surrender, as they were wont to do whenever Fitz assailed her with all his attributes and attentions.
She felt he knew her, appreciated her…but love?
He seemed to note the emotion welling in her eyes as his thumb traced the salty tears away, waited for her response, when all hell broke loose.
Loud, thunderous barking and two enormous hounds jumped in between them, toppling them both with their enormity. Noelle let out several large shrieks as Fitz pushed the two obsequious, overly enthusiastic hounds aside. The hounds kept coming, jumping with paws and tongues unleashed, at Lady Noelle.
Two more hounds joined them, miniature and even more enthusiastic ones, this time.
Fitz cursed and kept shoving them away, muddy paws and slimy jowls threatening to ruin their evening attire.
The two of them fended off the collection of dogs that pushed them further apart, knocking Noelle into the hedge as she squealed in frustration.
Miss Kelley appeared as if summoned, hand holding onto a piece of red cord.
“I sincerely hope for both your sakes that this is not what it looks like.”
Fitz broke her gaze and looked over his shoulder from where he was attempting to free Lady Noelle from the battalion of dogs at her heels.
She’d liked the cerulean dress with black lace Moria had chosen for her tonight, and now the thorns pinning it to the maze hedge threatened to ruin it, and her reputation to boot.
“Would you mind? I’ve just properly proposed to the lady and have faced a barrage of interruptions.”
Bridget took in the state of her charge’s gown and bent to help set her to rights: “Let’s fix this before his lordship catches up.”
“Too late,” Jasper took in the muddied hem of Noelle’s dress, the hoop of her skirt caught on the maze hedge, the paw prints on her dress. “What the bloody…?”
Fitz was attempting to help tug Noelle’s dress free of the maze hedge, but it was caught at several intervals in the needly brambles. To tug it free could ruin her dress and ruin his carefully planned proposal that had been like something out of a daydream.
“Do you want to help, my lord, or do you want to accuse?” Fitz spat out.
Jasper produced a long knife from his boot, Noelle shrieked just before he made a long slice through the threads snared on the bushes. “There.”
Miss Kelley looked at him askance and asked, “You carry a knife in your boot on your sister’s property?”
“As you can see, it’s useful for removing my sisters from their…entanglements,” He said, eyeing the knife before turning to stare down Fitz.
“It was Titan and Ursula and your horde of houndlings that did this,” Noelle replied, shaking her skirts.
Jasper eyed the muddy dog shaped footprints on her dress. At the sound of their names, the two dogs came running again, Noelle clutching Fitz's side. Fitz tightened his grip on her and placed her behind him.
“Heel,” Jasper said menacingly, and the two dogs halted. “What do you two wretches have to say for yourselves?”
Fitz opened his mouth to answer as though Jasper were addressing him, when both dogs sat at Jasper's feet, pawed the ground in defense.
“Don’t grovel to me, you overzealous louts. It’s her you attacked.”
The two dogs followed the swivel of their master's head in his sister's direction. They both mewled. “Keep your paws to yourselves.”
Noelle looked to Fitz, who appeared chagrinned as though he’d himself been scolded just as handily as Jasper's hounds. Noelle, doing her best not to laugh, caused her spectacles to fall askew. Fitz reached out with a steady hand, righting them on her nose, his other arm still clutching her to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
And now, his affection was in his eyes as he said, “A lifetime of setting you to rights as you upend me, that’s what I’m asking for.”
The satisfied, hopeful smile he gave her lit a fuse inside her, bonfires of longing for him sparked anew at every place his body made contact with hers.
“She’s perfectly safe, you can let her go now,” Jasper said.
Fitz cleared his throat. “I cannot. Not until she has given me an answer.”
Jasper cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon?”
Bridget stepped forward, placing a hand on the Earl’s arm. “I believe Viscount Ludlowe proposed to Lady Noelle, properly this time, before the hounds interfered, my Lord,” she explained.
Her brother had the grace to look chagrined but did not move. Bridget turned one of her best smiles on him, giving the tiniest laugh, “My lord, perhaps we should give them some privacy so that she can give him her answer?”
Jasper looked to Noelle; her eyes were pleading. She could handle herself.
Bridget gave one final tug of his arm, and he nodded.
Before he left, he placed his boot dagger in Noelle’s hand with a pointed look at Fitz.
She couldn’t help it, this time Noelle did laugh.
As they made their retreat, the governess did not relinquish her hold on his arm.
He placed one hand on hers and smiled down at her.
There was something there, Noelle thought; but she was overcome with relief to see all of Jasper’s hell hounds trailing behind him.
Noelle turned to Fitz. He took both of her hands. “I believe you asked me a question, Fitzwilliam.”
He blew out a breath. “I’m relieved you remember after all of that, if I’m honest.”
She fought the urge to laugh again, her thoughts scattering as he pulled her closer, his thumbs tracing patterns against her rib cage. Her hands trailed down his shoulders to his chest, slipped inside his jacket to his waist.
His voice was a rumble against her ear, her hair, her neck. “Please put me out of my misery, Noelle.”
“There’s only ever been one answer. Of course I’ll marry you, Fitz. I’m gone for you, you know that.”
Both hands wrapped around her nape and brought her in for a searing kiss. The sounds of music and laughter floated down to them from the ballroom above, but there was only them. His hands in her hair, her teeth and lips on his neck. And the future before them.