Chapter Twenty-Two #2
For a moment, as she swallowed, he thought she might tell him. It would be a gift to know what would scrub that petrified expression from her face. He needed to know, or else he might as well run mad.
“Tell me what will make it better,” he said. “I have thought of nothing else but you since I left your side. I at least could imagine that you were happy. I pictured your relief away from me, that you would be pleased to reclaim your identity, your sense of self…”
Abigail made a sort of snuffing noise, as she turned on the seat she sat in and looked away from him.
“I should have gone through with my threat to kill them, that at least might give me some kind of satisfaction,” Robert said, anger bubbling through, stronger than any he had felt toward the smugglers, toward the French, toward anyone before.
How could anyone bring his beloved Abigail so low?
When she was all that was good, and bright and clever in this world, and if only more of the country could be more like her, and less inclined to criticize her, it would be a far happier place to live.
When she lifted her gaze to his, it cut him to the quick to see the tears ease out of her eyelids, and run down her face, because Abigail was not the sort of woman to give into tears. “I stretched myself beyond my means, beyond what I am capable of. I should have known it was beyond me.”
“No.” Robert’s vehemence cut her off, the abruptness of his reply, as he moved over to sink into the floor before her.
“It is their failure not to see you, to recognize your wonder, that belittles them. They—those men who have dismissed you. They will be lost to the swell of history, but your discoveries, your finds will be remembered.” His hand reached out and cupped her cheek.
“You are not diminished by them. They are just cheap stock next to you.”
How he wished he could reach up to smooth the hair from her face, to kiss her cheeks, to bring some kind of comfort or reassurance to her.
Leaning forward, Abigail rested her forehead against his and sighed heavily, sucking in a soothing breath as she steadied herself.
Now was his chance, his time to admit all that he felt.
To tell her everything, and Robert would no longer be a coward hiding behind obligation, behind his career or his commodore.
“I love you.” He could not quite see all of her face at this angle, but he could catch her reaction from the way she sat back and mutely stared at him.
“I have for some time, but I was blind to it. Here.” He took hold of her hand and pressed it over the beat of his chest where his heart lay.
“I have told myself again and again to ignore the pain of parting from you, but I can ignore it no longer. All I want is to be by your side, with no reason to leave it—” he moved his own fingers over the top of her gown, to rest over Abigail’s own heart, “this, with you is where I need to be.”
“Robert—”
“I lied when I first met you. But I think I was lying to myself as much as to you. I could not believe my own interest in a woman who was different, who dressed in breeches, who read French papers, whose family members are—” He could not quite believe it himself when he laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
“Are the very people I have spent the last decade years fighting against.” Their eyes met.
Hers bright with unshed tears but a stubborn look of defiance, that made his heart swell.
“And I don’t care about them. About anything it seems. All that matters now is you.
All that matters is your happiness, and the promise that we might find some of that joy, together.
You are all the things in this world that are bright and good and light, and for the last few days I have tried to find some solace, some semblance of it without you, but it is not possible.
That is my truth. I love you. Tell me what I can do to make things right. ”
“Have you told your baron about my family? Did you post that letter?”
“No. But I must, surely…”
“No.” Her fists landed on his chest, and then they twisted, catching hold of the jacket folds and keeping him close to her. She let out a small laugh. “I have no clue what you must have said. I saw your letter to your baron and never doubted your loyalty to him.”
“I will not betray your sister, despite how much she deserves it. That is how much I am in thrall to you, I am prepared to risk it all, my life it seems to keep you happy and whole. I will turn traitor to keep you and yours safe.”
Her hand moved up to his face as she stared at him, and she laughed. “How you must wish you might have stumbled on a Miss Costigan rather than me, to be your guide to Lyme Regis.”
The small joke made him laugh, breaking the tension.
She gave him a watery smile and he could resist no longer.
He wrapped his arms around Abigail, pulling out of the chair, and dragging them upright as he swung her round, before pausing, his mouth just an inch above hers.
“I suppose you know that is my way of saying will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes, it is. After all that course of action…” She trailed off and smiled again.
“I think I would like to hear the actual words of a proposal though,” Abigail said as Robert released her and took a step back.
This was why he had brought her here, what he had been hoping to say, and yet he wanted everything to be as perfect as they could be.
Slowly, he lowered himself down onto one knee.
“I know that today did not go as you wished. My proposal is not a sop or an alternative for that. I will do everything in my power to ensure that your dreams of scholarship, of science, of discovery, are never forgotten. Please do not doubt my sincerity nor my wish that you will win your dreams in this regard.” He stretched out his hand toward Abigail, his eyes fixed on her smiling face, alight with interest and intelligence, how long had he imagined her here, that she might be his fiancé.
“I will endeavor to be worthy of your husband. Will you marry me?”