Page 92 of A Rogue to Resist
Understanding dawned in Drake’s eyes. “Whereas with me—”
“With you, everything feels significant,” Katherine confessed. “Every argument, every agreement, every shared moment with the tenants. Because I care deeply about what you think, what you feel. Because from our first meeting, you have seen me—truly seen me—in a way no one else ever has.”
Drake’s expression softened with a tenderness that made Katherine’s heart race.
“I see a woman of remarkable intelligence and passion,” he said quietly. “A woman who fights fiercely for those under her care, who challenges conventional thinking when it doesn’t serve the greater good, who transformed Greythorne through sheer determination despite every obstacle placed in her path.”
He took her hands in his, gently disentangling her fingers from the crumpled fabric. “I see Katherine Halston, not as Edmund’s widow or the Duke of Wexford’s sister, but as herself—stubborn, brilliant, infuriating at times, and more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Katherine felt a blush warm her cheeks at his words, at the open admiration in his gaze. “You make me sound far more impressive than I am.”
“I disagree,” Drake replied with a hint of his usual argumentative spirit. “If anything, I’ve understated your qualities. We could debate the matter further, if you wish.”
A small laugh escaped her, surprising in its genuine amusement. “Always ready to argue with me, even now.”
“Always,” he confirmed, his own smile lighting his serious features. “It’s one of the many joys of knowing you, Katherine—never being certain whether we’ll find accord or spirited disagreement on any given topic.”
His smile faded, replaced by an expression of earnest sincerity. “I love you, Katherine. Not as a convenient solution to the entail’s requirements, not as a managing partner for Greythorne’s affairs, but as the woman you are—everything I never knew I needed until you stormed into my life demanding justice for the western fields.”
The declaration, spoken with such openness, such vulnerability, unlocked something in Katherine’s heart that had been closed since long before Edmund’s death. A capacity for joy she had thought forever lost to her.
“I need to ask you something,” Drake said, his expression growing serious once more. “Something I should have asked weeks ago, before my hasty engagement to Lady Eleanor, before all the misunderstandings that separated us.”
Katherine felt her breath catch, anticipation and fear mingling in her chest. “Yes?”
“Would you consider marriage to another Earl of Greythorne?” he asked quietly. “Not now, not immediately—that would indeed cause a scandal even I might hesitate to provoke. But eventually, when sufficient time has passed since my broken engagement? Would you contemplate becoming my countess, not because of any practical consideration or estate matter, but because I cannot imagine facing life without you by my side?”
The question hung in the air between them, transforming the very atmosphere of the study. Katherine searched Drake’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt, and found only steady certainty in his gaze.
“I came to Town determined never to marry again,” she said softly. “Convinced that independence was the only path tohappiness after Edmund. Certain that no man could be trusted with my heart or my future.”
Drake waited, patience evident in his stillness despite the tension evident in his shoulders.
“Then I met you,” Katherine continued. “And everything I thought I knew about myself, about marriage, about what was possible between a man and a woman, began to change. You challenged me, respected me, valued me for precisely the qualities Edmund resented.”
She took a deep breath, gathering courage for her final confession. “Yes, Drake Halston. I would marry you—not for Greythorne, not for the western fields, but for you. Because I love you, and the thought of life without you has become unbearable.”
Joy bloomed in Drake’s expression, transforming his features with a radiance that took Katherine’s breath away. With careful reverence, he raised her trembling hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers that conveyed both respect and unmistakable affection.
“You have made me the happiest of men,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And I promise you this, Katherine—our marriage will bear no resemblance to your first. You will never again be silenced or diminished. Your intelligence, your passion, your independent spirit—all the qualities I love in you will be cherished, not constrained.”
Katherine felt tears threaten again, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they were promising each other.
“I believe you,” she whispered, the simple statement perhaps the greatest evidence of how thoroughly Drake had transformed her world. “I trust you.”
She glanced down at their joined hands, his strong and steady around her own. Her fingers trembled slightly, and ratherthan trying to hide it, she turned her hand palm-up in his grasp, revealing the faint calluses from years of holding reins, the small scar near her thumb from a childhood mishap. Such imperfections would horrify most ladies of her station, but she let him see them all—these small marks that told the story of who she really was beneath the careful facade of the Dowager Countess.
Drake understood the gesture for what it was. His eyes never leaving hers, he took her ungloved hand in his own, the warmth of his skin against hers sending a current of awareness through Katherine that made her breath catch.
“I love you,” she whispered, the words emerging with greater certainty this time, strengthened by his acceptance, his answering love. “Please, don’t let me go.”
“Never,” Drake promised, his fingers tightening gently around hers. “Not for all the world.”
In the quiet of the study, with morning light and firelight illuminating their joined hands, Katherine felt the last of her defences dissolve. For the first time since she could remember, she was not the Dowager Countess of Greythorne, not the Duke of Wexford’s sister, not Edmund’s widow—she was simply Katherine, a woman who had found in Drake Halston not just love, but the rarest gift of all: the freedom to be entirely herself, cherished rather than merely tolerated for her strength and spirit.
Whatever came next—breaking Drake’s engagement to Lady Eleanor, weathering the inevitable Society gossip, planning their own future together—they would face it as they had faced the western fields dispute and Greythorne’s many challenges: side by side, neither yielding to the other, but finding in their very differences a strength greater than either possessed alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
