Page 57 of A Duke to Restore her Memory
He stopped pacing, staring into the flames of the fire. He was suddenly recalling every moment of connection between them, right from the very start, when he had pulled her injured from that pit.
The way her green eyes shone when she looked at him. The way she sought him out. The tone of her voice when she spoke to him …
His heart seized. He knew that Lydia was right. If he didn’t at least declare himself to her and put his heart on the line, he would never know how she truly felt about him. He would lose his chance with her forever. They lived a hundred miles away from one another. He wasn’t going to run into her at a ball or a garden party.
If he didn’t go to Draycott Manor and declare himself, the chance would be gone. She would move on with her life. She would marry someone else. It was now … or it was never.
He kept staring into the flames. The agony of enduring this love and not knowing if she felt the same way was unbearable. What was he going to do?
Chapter 29
Christina sighed heavily as she walked slowly around the gardens at Draycott Manor. The roses were in spectacular bloom at this time of year, and their perfume was truly magnificent, almost making her swoon.
She stopped, staring at a peach-coloured rose, its petals as soft as silk, burying her nose into the centre of it, breathing deeply. Its scent was so exquisite she felt like bursting into noisy tears.
But then again, she often felt weepy and low these days, unable to settle into anything, drifting around the rooms of the house and the gardens like a lost soul.
She kept walking, blinking back tears. She missed Newquay Hall. Sometimes, at night, it entered her dreams, along with its owner. In the dreams, she would be running down long hallways that seemed never to end – and he would be standing there, so tall and commanding that he took her breath away, beckoning to her.
Come to me. I am waiting for you.
But even though she ran faster still, as fast as her legs could carry her, she could never get any closer to him.
She would reach out her arms, clawing the air with her hands, trying to progress, to no avail. And then, he would dissolve into mist as if he had never been there.
Christina stopped, her heart thumping hard. In the distance, at the very end of the path, he was standing there, dressed in a smart green jacket, white britches, and tall black riding boots, his dark hair ruffled by the wind.
Her heart almost stopped beating. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. The vision was merely a figment of her imagination. She was dreaming of him just like she dreamed of him at night. If she started walking towards him, he would dissolve into the air.
Rooted to the spot, she watched him slowly walk towards her. She could feel the dark burning of his eyes connecting with her own, an invisible cord tightening between them.
He is not real. He is not really here. At any moment, he will be gone.
Her hands were starting to shake now. Desperately, she clasped them tightly together at the front, urging them to stop. But it was no use. And now, she could feel sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Her knees were starting to buckle.
He was almost upon her. He was getting so close she could see the tense set of his jawline, the tightness in his shoulders, the dark circles beneath his eyes. Her heart leapt to life, and she felt the blood zinging through her veins like fire.
He was real. He wasn’t a ghost, phantom, or figment of her imagination.
“It really is you,” she breathed when he was only inches away from her. She smelt the scent of his cologne, masculine and familiar. “You are actually here.”
He nodded, reaching out and taking her hand. “I am,” he said slowly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes raked over her face. “You are just as beautiful as I remember. Maybe more so. You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”
Her heart leapt, glorying in his words. She could barely breathe. “Why? Why are you here? I thought I would never see you again.”
“I tried to stay away, but to no avail,” he said, his dark eyes turning even darker so they were almost black. “I convinced myself that you would never be interested in me … but then, I could not stay away.” He took a deep, ragged breath, looking tormented. “Please, put me out of my misery. Tell me, do I have a chance with you? Even a small chance?”
Christina’s jaw dropped. Her breath caught in her throat. Her head started to spin. Perhaps she was dreaming after all?
She dug her nails into her forearms. It hurt. No, she was definitely awake. And he was staring at her so ardently, with such hunger in his gaze, that she couldn’t deny any longer that this was real, and he truly was standing in front of her, asking her if he had a chance with her.
“Yes,” she said in an agonized whisper. “Yes. This is what I have dreamed about.”
“Have you?” He took a step closer to her, taking her hand and pulling her close. His eyes were lit up now, luminous with joy. His eyes flickered over her face. “I cannot believe it. I love you, Christina. I love you so much that my heart is aching with it. I cannot sleep, and I cannot eat. I am a man in torment.”
He dropped down onto one knee, gazing up at her beseechingly. “Please, will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world?”
Tears were streaming down her face now. Mutely, she nodded her head. He gave a cry of joy, leaping to his feet and pulling her towards him.
