Page 7 of Grave Expectations
"You understand me more than anyone I've ever met, Charlie." His dark gaze locked onto me, trapping me as thoroughly as his hand trapped mine. "You care for me when no one else does. You saw the good in me when I couldn't see it myself. You make me a better man."
"You do that all on your own."
He shook his head. "My life changed immeasurably when you tumbled into it, with your big eyes and fierce determination."
Those were hardly qualities that led to love. Indeed, he did not mention love at all. Perhaps it was too soon for him to express it. He had, after all, never known it in his life.
"I tried to fight my feelings," he went on. "I tried to set them aside, but it couldn't be done. You have occupied my thoughts almost constantly since then. You have changed how I work, what I think and do. You've changed everything. You have affected me in ways you may never know. The thought of giving you up or of seeing you with another man…" He shook his head and his deep, dark eyes shuttered but did not close. "I'm afraid of what will become of me if you're not there."
I stroked his cheek and wished I could say something, but my throat ached and no words came out.
To my surprise, he continued on. The man who was usually so reluctant to express himself, seemed to have a lot to say, all of a sudden. "I no longer have it in me to resist youormy feelings." His lips kicked up into a crooked smile. "Besides, I want the world to know that you're mine. And I want to know you, in every way. So you see, there is nothing to be done except marriage. It's the only solution."
It wasn't the most romantic proposal. It certainly wasn't the way it had unfolded in the countless imaginary proposals I'd dreamed up. But it was honest and raw, and I couldn't tease him about it. He appeared anxious enough as it was, waiting for me to respond.
Anxiety. Yes, that was the expression I'd not been able to identify in his face when we stopped. He was worried that I would turn down his proposal, or perhaps mock him. That could be why he hadn't actually asked me directly, but decidedforme.
I cupped his cheek, to capture that uncertain look, and stroked the tiny line bracketing the corner of his mouth until it smoothed away. "Yes, Lincoln. With all my heart, I will marry you."
"Good." He took my hand in his so hard that I sucked in a breath. He loosened his grip and said, "Good" again. "We'll purchase a ring after luncheon."
We strolled on, hand-in-hand, and I began to wonder if we would walk all the way back toLe Grand Hôtel. Perhaps walking was a good idea. I had dozens of things to say and the cold air helped clear my head so that I could make sense of them all. Yet, I suddenly felt shy. Too shy to say what was on my mind. We'd gone from the occasional stolen kiss to engaged in a matter of moments, and I'd not seen it coming. I felt like I'd been swamped by an avalanche.
His grip tightened on my hand, anchoring me at his side. "You wish to ask me something?"
"I…yes." I cleared my throat. "Forgive me, I'm somewhat stunned. I wasn't expecting this."
"It will take some getting used to. For both of us." His thumb stroked my hand. "Charlie…if it's not what you want—"
"It is!" I hauled him to a stop. "Oh, Lincoln, yes it is what I want, very much. But it has come so soon after you declared you wouldn't marry anyone. That's why I thought you wished to take me as your mistress."
He flinched, as if my words stung him. "I'm prepared to take a risk and see if marriage agrees with me."
A laugh bubbled out of me, even though I didn't find his words amusing. He waspreparedto take arisk? It was hardly a convincing argument. I supposed I should be glad that he thought me worthy of a risk at all. "Perhaps we should wait for you to become used to the idea of us being together."
He circled his arm around my back and drew me to his side as we continued to walk. It was very intimate, but I'd noticed the French cared less about such things than the English. I'd seen many couples walk together in this manner, and even seen them kissing without a care who saw them. If cities were people, then Paris was a dancer where London was a vicar's wife.
"I've waited long enough," he said. "As soon as we get permission from Holloway, we'll wed. I don't care where. I'll leave the arrangements to you. Leave Holloway to me."
The steely undercurrent in his tone chilled me. "I'm sure he'll give his permission," I said quickly. "He'll probably be glad to hand me over to someone else."
"Let's hope it's as simple as that."
We caught a hansom out of Montmartre almost back to the hotel, but alighted on the Rue de la Paix. We dined inside, at the Café de la Paix, since it was too cold to sit at one of the pavement tables.
The realization that I would marry Lincoln finally sank in after I finished the last of the delectable pastries. I felt positively giddy with the notion. Or perhaps that was the two glasses of champagne taking effect.
"Seth, Cook and Gus won't believe it," I told him, unable to hold back my grin.
"They will when they see the ring."
I stared at my fingers. I'd never worn a ring before, or jewelry of any kind. "Will we purchase one this afternoon?"
"If they have any in stock that fit and you like, otherwise we'll order it. I'm sure you'll have it by the end of the week, unless the diamond you want is too large."
Diamond! He wanted to give me adiamondring!
"Expect some resistance from the committee," he said.
