Page 63 of Lady Willa's Divinely Wicked Vicar
“A sweetness if I have you beside me,” he said. “I want you, Willa Sheffield. I want to give you happy days and thrilling nights. A home full of acceptance, forgiveness and joy. A place where love rules every hour.”
A finer man she had never known. That was not a proposal but close to it. She grinned, tossed her hair over her shoulders and set to her original purpose here. “Am I to take it then that you might consider marrying me?”
“Why would you want to marry me, dear lady? I am a man who is about to leave his profession. One who may not succeed at another. I have little to offer you in the way of any guarantee.”
“But you could offer yourself. A future you will make for yourself. Built on principles and ethics. Built on love of humankind and the fruits of the earth. A man who is kind and purposeful, funny and dear. Oh, Charlie, I would say that man is the perfect one for me. Will you have me?”
He wrapped her close. “Have you? Keep you. Love you. Always, my willful woman. But be certain of one thing.”
“What is that?”
He trailed his fingertips through her hair. “I will never let you leave me again.”
She swallowed her tears of joy. “Well then. I hope you can acquire a special license, dear sir. I am an earl’s daughter, you see, and I do not wish to create a scandal.”
He hooted at that. “You mean, another one?”
She bobbed her head. “We do want to ensure you win your elections without any tarnish within the family.”
He widened his eyes. “Good point.” He stood and pulled her to the aisle.
“Wait! Where are we going?”
He winked at her. “My house. I’ve a thing or two to show you.”
She pulled her chin into her chest. “That sounds…risqué.”
“It is.” He took another step down the aisle. “Come along.”
“I cannot do this!”
“You don’t wish to?”
“Well, of course, I do, but—”
He cupped her cheeks with his warm hands and laughed. “Come with me, sweetheart. I’m teasing you. In my cottage in my desk, I have a paper you will love to see. The special license I’ve had since April third.”
She halted. “You had one when you came to De Courcy Manor?”
He grinned. “I wanted you and I meant to have you.”
Joy rained down on her like a spring shower. New, replete, she reached up and put her lips to his. His response was a ravishing possession. She broke away, breathless. “And so you’ll marry me?”
“If I could get a man to my house in the next hour, it would not be too soon.”
She grinned and cast him a coy lady’s glance. “Can you?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She frowned, disappointed.
“But what do you say to tomorrow?”
She looped her arms around his neck and pecked him on the cheek. “Early.”
He grew still and serious. “At De Courcy Manor?”
She bit her lower lip and toyed with the button on his waistcoat. “No. My father owes me much in honor and much to you in respect.” She stared up into his sad eyes. “That reconciliation, if it ever occurs, must begin with him. What would you say if we married at your father’s house?”
