Epilogue
London ~ The following spring
Deborah stood across the ballroom from Percy. He had been in discussion with Tilson and Peter over some matter while she stood with Hannah as both suffered the disappointed glances of their mother.
This was the first ball they had attended this Season and Deborah would wait, or Percy would never hear the end of breaking yet another promise.
As the chords of a waltz struck, he turned from Peter and Tilson and smiled at her from across the room.
He said something to his companions, then crossed to her and held out his hand.
She simply looked at him.
“What have I done this time?” he grumbled.
“You need to ask,” she reminded him. “That is the only promise I have ever asked you to make and that is to ask.”
“Deborah, might I have this waltz?”
“Nothing would make me happier, Lord Shrewsbury.” She then placed her hand on his arm and allowed Percy to lead her to the dancefloor.
When they turned to the other, he bowed and she curtseyed, then she was in his arms.
“I have waited for this waltz since you first promised two and a half years ago.”
“Yes, I know.” He chuckled.
“Please do not ruin it by stepping on my toes.”
“I would not dare.” And with those words, he swept her up in a turn, which would be quite scandalous if they were not wed, and even then, some might consider it as such.
“Oh, I do love you Percy,” she sighed.
“And you will always have my heart, Deborah.”
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