Page 112 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“Peter?” The look on her face was unreadable. “What are you doing here?”
Peter walked toward her, not caring that everyone in the room followed his movements.
Please, Dahlia.
When finally he stood before her, words failed him.
“Dahlia.” It was the only word that he could speak.
He moved closer still, his eyes holding hers. Taking strength from her letter, he found the words she sought.
“I am in love with you.”
Loud gasps echoed in the ballroom.
“A love that I had never thought I could feel, a love that blinds me, that lifts me up and renders me on my knees. A love that wants to build a life with you. Dahlia…” Peter took her warm hands in his cold ones. “It is a love that I would die for, a lovethat I would live for. A love that has taught me to forgive myself. A love that would last a lifetime if you would let it. I was scared before. I did not want to be what my father became. When we lost mother, it was like he lost everything that made him want to live.”
Thinking of his next words, Peter shook his head to clear his mind. Snow fell on Dahlia’s arm, and gently, she brushed it off with his fingers.
“My father forgot me, Mary, and Claire; he forgot his duties and responsibilities. He withered away, a shadow of the man he used to be. And I blamed his love for my mother. That all-consuming love that made him forget his name and purpose. I was afraid of that, Dahlia.”
“And now?”
“No, no longer.” Peter shook his head. “It blinded me to fate’s gift. But you have made me see. You, with your kindness, your warmth, your strength and courage. You were the strong one, and I the weak. No amount of control could give me the happiness that loving you could. To love means to be strong, to be brave. Love is not a weakness, it is strength.” He repeated his realizations, the words that had driven him to action.
“Because of you, I know that now. Dahlia, I am tired of being weak. I know that with you, I can be strong because you have seenme, and yet you still dared to love me.”
Tears ran down Dahlia’s cheeks. He offered her his handkerchief. She took it and wiped her eyes.
“Dahlia.”
He said her name like a prayer. And she answered it.
“I love you, Peter. I have waited for you. Only you.”
Peter kissed her in front of everyone, amid cheers and happy tears. He felt that he would never let her go. Across the ballroom, he saw her parents smiling and crying at the same time. Beside them, Dahlia’s elderly aunts were clapping and crying, huddled together. Her Uncle Edward raised his wineglass to them.
“To you I entrust my future, my heart; I am yours, beautiful Dahlia.”
“You’ve always said that I was beautiful, and I have come to realize that you meant it.”
“Beautiful. May I have this dance, Your Grace?” Peter asked her.
“You may, Your Grace.”
They danced their first dance together, a waltz. They clung to each other as if they never meant to be apart. The new year came, and what a welcome it was for them.
Love, hope, trust, and strength, these were their gifts to each other as they vowed to make their marriage a real one. They danced amid celebrations and cheer for the new year, but Peter and Dahlia only had eyes for each other.
With whispered promises, they welcomed their new life together.
Epilogue
“It is here!” Biddy rushed inside the mistress’ chambers, out of breath.
“Biddy, what is the matter? Why are you out of breath?” Dahlia looked at her lady’s maid a little alarmed.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “But your new book, it has arrived!”
