Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
The first frost had come early this year, and the village had dressed itself accordingly.
Braziers glowed at every corner, their coals spitting orange sparks into the black November sky.
Evergreen boughs had been strung between the shopfronts, tied with red ribbon that snapped in the bitter wind.
A bonfire crackled at the centre of the square, tall enough that the heat reached the far stalls, where vendors sold roasted chestnuts from iron drums and ladled mulled wine into tin cups that steamed in the cold.
Children chased each other between the legs of adults, their cheeks raw and bright, their laughter sharp as glass in the frozen air.
A fiddler played somewhere near the bakery, the notes thin and sweet against the crack and hiss of burning wood.
Nell arrived with the children as the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
She’d worn her green silk dress, the one she almost never wore, though she’d kept it hidden in the back of her wardrobe like a secret.
It was perhaps a bit too fine for a village carnival, but Dominic had asked her to wear something pretty, and she’d found herself wanting to please him.
That alone should have told her something.
“Mama, you look so pretty.” Lily had said it three times already, each time with the same breathless awe. She tugged on Nell’s hand as they walked through the crowds. “Like a real princess. I adore this dress.”
“It’s just a dress.” Nell adjusted her shawl, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious under the glow of the lanterns.
“It’s the most beautiful dress ever!” Lily grinned, her expression far too knowing. “Can I have it when I am older?”
“Of course, my love.” Nell smiled at her daughter, lovingly.
Oliver walked on her other side with his hands shoved in his pockets. He wore an expression of studied casualness that didn’t fool her for a second, while he kept glancing at his sister, and Lily kept glancing back. They were both terrible at hiding things.
“All right.” Nell stopped walking and turned to face them both. “What is going on?”
“Going on?” Lily’s eyes went wide and innocent as she looked at a nearby stall. “Nothing is going on. Why would anything be going on?”
“You’ve been acting strange all day.” Nell crossed her arms.
“We have not.” Oliver muttered, looking at his boots.
“You helped me pick out this dress.” Nell reminded them.
“Because you looked pretty in it.” Lily bounced on her toes, gesturing to the silk. “Is it a crime to want your Mama to look pretty?”
Oliver coughed into his hand. Nell narrowed her eyes at him.
“Can we get sweets?” Lily grabbed her brother’s arm, already tugging him toward the nearest vendor. “Please? I saw honey cakes. I love honey cakes.”
“Go on.” Nell sighed, recognizing a losing battle. “Stay together. Don’t wander off.”
“We won’t.” Lily was already pulling Oliver into the crowd. “Promise!”
They disappeared, their giggling trailing behind them. Nell stood alone in the middle of the carnival, surrounded by villagers and lantern light.
It was all so normal. So why did she feel as though the very air hummed before a storm?
“Nell.” Daphne appeared at her elbow, materializing out of the crowd. Her grin was even wider than Lily’s had been. “You look lovely.”
“You too.” Nell frowned at her friend, suspicious of everyone now. “You are smiling.”
“I smile sometimes.” Daphne smoothed her own bodice, her eyes darting toward the center of the square.
“Not like that.” Nell’s eyes narrowed further. “You know something.”
“I know many things.” Daphne linked their arms together, steering Nell through the crowd with determined cheerfulness. “Come. Let us walk.”
“Daphne...” Nell tried to slow her pace.
“Look, there’s Mrs. Potts. Wave to Mrs. Potts.” Daphne urged, lifting her own hand.
Nell waved automatically, still trying to figure out the mystery. Everyone she passed seemed to be smiling at her, like they were all participants in a secret she’d yet to be told.
There was Lady Philippa, standing near the cider vendor with her silver hair gleaming in the lantern light.
She caught Nell’s eye and offered a warm, encouraging smile that appeared slightly tearful.
Nearby stood Lady Catherine, and beside her a tall man Nell did not recognise — lean and fair-haired, with an easy grin fixed on the stage like a boy at a puppet show.
Both of them watched Nell with expressions of pure anticipation.
Even Edmund hovered at the edge of the crowd, his kind face neutral but his eyes gentle as they met hers.
“Daphne.” Nell stopped walking and gripped her friend’s sleeve. “What is going on?”
“Look.” Daphne simply nodded toward the small stage where the musicians had been playing.
The music had stopped. Dominic was climbing onto the platform.
Nell’s heart seized in her chest. It forgot how to beat. She forgot everything except the sight of him. He looked tall and broad in his dark coat, the fading bruise at his temple barely visible in the golden light. He stood at the center of the stage and scanned the crowd until he found her.
Their eyes met, and he smiled. It was the smile that transformed his face, making him look young and hopeful, nothing like the brooding viscount he often pretended to be.
“What is he doing?” Nell’s voice came out strangled as she pressed a hand to her throat.
“Just watch.” Daphne squeezed her arm firmly. “Trust me.”
“If you will indulge me.” Dominic’s voice carried across the square, cutting through the murmur of the crowd.
He waited as the village fell silent, faces turning toward their viscount with looks of curiosity and concern.
“I have an announcement.” He cast the words to the furthest reaches of the square, his posture commanding and tall.
Whispers rippled through the gathered neighbors. Mrs. Pemberton, stationed near the front, began to fan herself with theatrical vigor.
“Some of you know that I recently had an accident.” Dominic touched his temple where the mark was fading. “A stupid thing. A spooked horse. It was my own fault for riding in a storm.”
Murmurs of sympathy rose from the villagers. Nell’s hands were shaking, but she pressed them flat against her silk skirt, trying to anchor herself.
“What you may not know...” Dominic paused, his eyes locking onto hers across the sea of faces with a sudden, searing intensity.
“…is that during my recovery, I had a visitor. Someone who sat by my bedside all night. Someone who held my hand and told me she loved me when she thought I couldn’t hear. ”
Oh God.
Nell’s face went hot, then cold. Every head in the crowd turned toward her, drawn by the direction of Dominic’s stare like iron filings to a magnet.
“I could hear.” He said it directly to her, ignoring the gasps and scandals erupting around them. “I heard every word.”
Mrs. Pemberton let out a sound like a scandalized teakettle—and someone near the back whistled, low and impressed.
“Nell Ashford.” He named her with a reverence that felt like a prayer. “Would you come up here?”
Her legs wouldn’t move. She remained rooted to the spot, her heart hammering so hard she could feel the pulse in her throat. Daphne gave her a firm push.
“Go.” Her friend’s eyes were wet as she nudged her forward. “Go on.”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Faces blurred past as she stumbled toward the stage, her own ragged breathing the only thing she could hear over the crunch of her shoes on the packed earth.
She climbed the steps on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else.
Dominic took her hand the moment she reached the top, his fingers wrapping around hers to steady her.
“Breathe.” His lips brushed her ear, the word intended for her alone. “I have got you.”
“What are you doing?” She breathed back, her fingers trembling against his palm.
“I know what you are going to say.” He smiled against her temple, his grip tightening. “Just let me finish.”
He turned to face the crowd, still holding her hand, and threw his words out to the square.
“This woman...” He lifted their joined hands for the assembled villagers to see. “…is the most stubborn, infuriating, magnificent person I have ever met.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Nell felt her face burn.
“She threw a sovereign back at me the first time we met.” Dominic grinned at the neighbors, his eyes dancing with the memory. More laughter followed. Somewhere in the crowd, Nell heard Lily’s distinct giggle.
“I fell in love with her then.” The performative edge drained from his expression, replaced by a quiet, raw sincerity. “I have been falling ever since.”
He released her hand and stepped back. To the shock of every soul present, he went to one knee, sinking into the mud without a second thought. The crowd gasped as one. Mrs. Pemberton actually clutched her chest as if she might faint.
Nell couldn’t breathe. The world had narrowed to this man and this impossible gesture.
“I have asked everyone who matters.” He held up a small velvet box, his hand shaking with a visible tremor. “Daphne gave her blessing this afternoon. Your children gave theirs this morning. Now I am asking you.”
“We said yes already!” Lily’s shout rang out from the crowd, high and joyful.
Laughter rippled through the square. Even Nell laughed — a choked, wet sound. Dominic opened the box. Inside, a simple gold ring caught the lantern light like a drop of fire.
“Marry me, Nell.” Her name broke in the back of his throat.
This man who had faced cavalry charges at Waterloo was now openly trembling on a stage before the entire village.
“Marry me because I love you. Because I have loved you since you slid my coin back across that counter and told me sixpence would do.”
She was crying properly now, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Marry me.” He looked up at her with raw hope on his scarred face. “Please. Say yes. Put me out of my misery.”
The whole square held its breath. Nell looked at him — this man who had asked her children’s permission, who was kneeling before everyone he knew, risking everything because he loved her.
“Yes.” The word came out broken and in a whisper.
“What?” He cupped his hand to his ear, a grin breaking across his face. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Yes.” She said it louder this time, laughing through her tears. “Yes, you impossible man. Yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger. His hands were still shaking, and hers were no better. Then he was on his feet, pulling her into his arms and lifting her clear off the ground as the crowd erupted.
“She said yes!” He announced it to the sky, his face radiant. “She said yes!”
Cheers exploded. Daphne was sobbing loudly into a handkerchief.
“I love you.” Nell whispered against his chest, her face pressed to the wool of his coat. “I love you, you mad, reckless, wonderful man.”
“I know.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. His eyes were bright and suspiciously wet. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her then, in front of everyone. Deep, sure, and unhurried — a kiss that left no doubt about his absolute commitment to the woman in his arms.