Page 180 of The Ladies Least Likely
“Well, of course!” Camilla said in exasperation. “Honestly, have you never done this before?”
“As a matter of fact,” Mal said, “no.”
The admission thrilled Amaranthe all the more. He’d never wanted to marry anyone else. In fact, he hadn’t thought of marriage at all until Oliver recommended he marry Amaranthe. And he’d never objected to the idea, not even in the beginning, not until he—but she wasn’t a forger anymore, and never wouldbe again. And if he meant to ask her, really and truly ask her… Her breath stopped in her throat.
Mal left his chair and dropped to one knee. “Amaranthe,” he began again.
Eyde rolled her eyes. “’Ee must take her hand, sir.”
“Yes, Grey—er, Mal, you go on bended knee before her,” Hugh said. “You ought to hold out the betrothal ring you mean to give her, but if you don’t have one, a heartfelt declaration will do.”
“I haven’t a ring,” Mal said.
“Then you must have a flowery speech,” Ned exclaimed. “Come, haven’t you rehearsed one? If we’d known you needed this much help?—”
“She doesn’t want a flowery speech, she just wants to hear he loves her,” Camilla said impatiently.
While the children argued over the best way Mal was to deliver his proposal, he crossed the rug in a few strides and dropped to one knee before Amaranthe’s chair. His hand when he took hers was firm, strong, and bore ink stains on various fingers. Amaranthe smiled, her heart beating madly. He was the man for her, in so many ways.
“Amaranthe Illingworth,” he said simply, holding her hand in both of his. “Will you?—”
“A bit louder, Your Grace, so’s we can hear proper!” Mrs. Blackthorn called from behind the door, where she stood peering with Ralph and Davey. Derwa’s head popped into the opening, her eyes alight.
Amaranthe bit back laughter at Mal’s look of exasperation. “Amaranthe Illingworth,” he said in his resonant barrister’s voice. “From the moment you came into my life, you’ve begun to fix things I didn’t know needed fixing. You have made me aware of dreams I didn’t know I wanted for myself. You haveopened my eyes in so many ways to a future I could never have imagined.”
She clung to his hand, hanging on his every word. His eyes were a clear, compelling blue. She wanted to fall into them forever. “Amaranthe, my dear, the most capable, astonishingly beautiful, dashedlycleverwoman I have ever met—will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
She smiled, letting her heart show in her eyes, through the sting of happy tears.
“I need some time to consider,” she said.
The look on his face was priceless. “What?”
“There is, for instance, the matter of my work. I wish to continue as a copyist. I love it, Mal.”
“Of course,” he said promptly. “The Duchess of Hunsdon, copyist. You will start a new fashion for duchesses entering trades.”
That idea was laughable, but she was not ready to laugh just yet. “There is the matter of my house. It is perfect for an antiquarian bookstore. And I have always wanted to open one.”
“You have a supply of manuscripts you’ve begun building to that effect,” Mal said. “Yes, I was listening to you chatter with Miss Pettigrew all the way to Bristol. What, I was going to listen to Joseph? Your bookstore you shall have, and as many books to go in it as the ducal estates can supply.”
“Speaking of Joseph.” She bit her lip. “Will he be able to continue his employment?”
“I will expect him to provide his services for free, if he is a member of the family,” Mal answered. “Oh, all right, we will increase his stipend. He must follow my example, however, and choose wisely when he next decides to fall in love.”
“And the children,” she said.
He held her gaze steadily. “I will adopt them, my love.”
“I know. I wish that as well. If—if they will have me as a mother.”
“By Jove, they will!” Ned exclaimed, and Camilla clapped her hands in joy.
Mal pressed her hands, examining her face. “You are still not certain?”
She bit her lip, coming to the last and worst objection. “It won’t benefit you a whit to marry me, Mal. A rector’s daughter, poor, plain, barely genteel—I’m not at all a fit wife for a duke. I bring nothing to a marriage, and?—”
He stopped her protest with his lips, uncaring of their audience. That kiss held everything she needed to know to make such a great and treacherous leap. She would sacrifice anything, pay any price, for the right to kiss him whenever she wanted. She slid her fingers along his jaw, ready to sink into him and that kiss forever, but he gathered his senses and drew back.
