Page 47 of King of Rogues
She turned on her heel and slowly began to walk back the way they had come. Hopefully, whoever it was on the beach would see she was leaving and not follow.
Harry raced after her, grabbing a hold of the end of her cloak, stopping her progress.
“Please don’t go. He wants you to stay.”
A cry of salutation reached her on the wild wind. “Naomi! Wait!”
She tore her gaze from her brother to the approaching male. He was very tall and broad shouldered. The only man she knew who fitted that physique was Monsale. But he was shortly to be married; and right now, was probably spending the morning with his future in laws. He most certainly didn’t have time to go wandering the beach.
Naomi shook her head. She must be imagining things, craving her heart’s desire for one last time.
Her name came to her once more on the wind. “Naomi!”
As he drew closer, she simply stared. It was Monsale.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Harry pulled her into his arms and gave her a hearty hug. “You will.” He drew back and smiled at her. “Give him one last chance. He knows he has made an almighty mess of things. And also, what he stands in danger of losing.”
“What do you mean? I am the one who has lost everything.”
With that, Harry leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I hope to see you very soon.” He wandered off in the direction of the castle, giving Monsale a wide berth as he went.
Her gaze settled back on the approaching Monsale. He was carrying something draped across his arms and striding with great purpose toward her. She stood, unable to move. A small voice in the back of her mind urged Naomi to run to him, but she refused to listen to its plea.
He is marrying Lady Euphemia. It wouldn’t be right for me to throw myself at him.
Naomi would honor their long friendship today and be gracious in defeat. Hopefully, it would be the first step in the long healing process for her heart. She would learn to move forward with her own life. Perhaps one day, find another who would want her love.
When he finally got within a few yards of her, Monsale stopped. There were two objects in his arms. One was a large bunch of flowers. Beautiful white and pink damask roses. They must have come from the hothouse at the castle. The other was a long, broad edged sword.
Monsale bent and gently set the roses down on the sand. He then knelt, and with the sword held flat across both his palms, he raised his arms, offering the sword to her.
Naomi scowled. What on earth was he doing?
Intrigued, she stepped forward and came to him. “What is going on?”
He grinned up at her. “This is me offering my sword to you. I am conceding defeat. You win Naomi. The war is over.”
“I…I don’t understand,” she stammered.
Monsale lay the sword next to the roses and got to his feet. With one large stride, he reached Naomi. She looked up as he towered over her.
“You win. I was stubborn and foolish. Thinking I could hold out and get you to marry me without ever offering my heart was wrong,” he said.
Utterly perplexed at his words, Naomi continued to scowl up at him.
“I still don’t understand what you are saying. I am the one who lost.”
He shook his head. “Yes, and no. I have thought long and hard about this whole catastrophe for the best part of the last two days, and I’ve come to the realization that we both lost. And perhaps that was what had to happen in order for us to win.”
“But Lady Euphemia…”
“Is somewhere on the road to Scotland this morning, traveling in Viscount Walsall’s coach. She is with the man she loves. I can only hope that they have the good sense to head straight to Gretna Green and marry as soon as possible.”
His fiancée had jilted him?
Monsale took a hold of Naomi’s hand. “A short while ago, I announced to Lord and Lady Marshall that last night I decided I didn’t want to marry Lady Euphemia. I also explained to them that in what can only be described as an astonishing coincidence, Viscount Walsall just happened to be passing Monsale Castle in the dark last night. He stopped and after offering for Euphemia, spirited her away. Suffice to say the Marshalls didn’t take any of the news all that well. They left the castle just as I was crossing the dunes a short while ago.”
