Page 56 of Earl for the Summer
“I did, but it’s good for clearing the mind.”
Both of her brows winged up. “Oh?”
“I love you, Daphne Bridewell.”
Tears welled in her eyes and she smiled. “And I love you, Captain Rourke. So…you’ve decided?”
Cassian grinned. “I have.” Gently, he swept the pad of thumb against her cheek to catch a tear, then reached down to clasp her hand. “But now you have a decision to make too, my love?”
“What decision?”
Cassian dropped down on one knee, never letting go of Daphne’s hand. “You must decide whether you wish to be my wife. What do you think? Will you, love?”
“Yes—”
Cassian got to his feet and took her lips in a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him take her weight as she arched into him.
The rightness of it, of holding her, of loving her, of devoting himself to her for the rest of his days filled him with such happiness that he trembled.
“Are you cold?” she whispered against his mouth.
He wasn’t. If anything, he was overheated, burning from the inside out with how much he loved and wanted her.
“We should go inside,” she said.
Cassian nodded, kissed her again, and it was all he could do not to sweep her up into his arms and carry her straight to his bedchamber. Because now that she’d promised to be his wife, and he had the prospect of a life with her ahead of him, he didn’t want to wait a single minute.
Daphne triedfor patience as Mrs. Hanson, Hillcrest’s housekeeper, gently cleansed and then applied a sticking plaster to her injured hand. The cut truly was slight, and she didn’t wish for anyone to make a fuss. But Mr. Bartlett had insisted as soon as he saw her enter the manor with Cassian and noted her bandage.
“There you go, miss. Right as rain.” The silver-haired housekeeper glanced at Daphne’s bedchamber window where the summer rain had slowed to a slight drizzle. The sun had even begun to peek out from behind the clouds. “And hopefully the rain is off for good if you wish to venture out again.”
“I might,” Daphne told her with a smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Hanson.”
“You are most welcome, Miss Bridewell.” She collected her kit of mending materials, stood, and left the bedchamber.
Daphne sat in the chair before the unlit fireplace and wondered how long she should wait before making her way to Cassian’s bedchamber. It was scandalous, of course. It was midday. Lily and her sisters would no doubt be wondering where she’d gone, and yet all she could think about was going to him.
She pressed a hand to her heart because it felt so full, as if it could barely contain the love and excitement she felt.
He was going to be her husband. Part of her wanted to suggest they start for Scotland today, with a very purposeful stop in Gretna Green. She’d always dreamed of a proper wedding, with her family celebrating the day with her, but it didn’t seem as important now.
Standing, she nibbled her lip, listening for any sound out in the hallway. Then she made her way to the chamber’s door.
She jumped when someone rapped from the other side.
Then she beamed when Cassian pushed the door open and stepped inside.
He’d shaved and donned dry clothes, though his hair was still tousled and damp slightly damp. She couldn’t resist reaching up and running her fingers through it when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Why does even half an hour away from you feel so long now?” he asked as he bent to nuzzle her cheek.
“I don’t know.” She turned to whisper in his ear. “But I feel it too.”
Daphne couldn’t resist reaching up and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, just to dip her fingers inside and feel his warm skin. Then she freed the next and the next.
“Temptress,” he said with a mischievous smile.
“You did call me bold.”
