She had spent enough of her childhood at Carlisle Manor to know the small balcony he referred to—one off the family wing. It was a public location, but an isolated one.
“I could,” she said. “We would have to be very careful.”
“We will be.”
Enough winding and weaving ensued as the guests returned to the ballroom that Felicity was able to easily slip away down a corridor to a family staircase. The wing was dim, but she knew the area well. Arriving on the terrace was not overly difficult.
She did not have to wait long. William joined her on the terrace, arriving from a seldom-used room in the family wing. The full moon provided enough light to faintly illuminate him. Though she was nervous about the conversation that awaited them, the sight of him brought her comfort and a feeling of deep contentment.
Their eyes met. He didn’t look away, neither did he speak. The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“William.” It was all she could say. Too much filled her heart and spun about in her mind. “William.”
He closed the distance between them. “I’ve been anxious for a moment with you. I’m glad you suggested it.”
“Angelina says I need to stop being a ninny.” It was not the sophisticated beginning to this all-important conversation she would have liked, but it was sincere.
“Leonard has been telling me much the same thing.” He took her hand and, to her pleased surprise, raised it to his lips. “Fate, I am told, would not have crossed our paths in London if it hadn’t intended to bring us together.” He brushed a soft and tender kiss over her knuckles. “But Fate can’t do everything for us.” He kissed her fingers once more before enveloping her hand between his. “Have I reason to hope, my dear friend, that there might someday be more between us than friendship?”
She set her free hand against his chest. “Clandestine meetings and stolen kisses would indicate there already is.”
His arm slipped around her, even as he kept her hand warmly clasped in his other one. “Kissing your fingers is not as scandalous as you seem to think.”
“Perhaps I was making a prediction rather than offering a summary.”
She felt his laughter rumble beneath her palm. “I like this coquettish side of you, Felicity.”
“Like?” Not merely a hint flirtatious, she found herself shockingly bold.
“I haven’t the talent for pretty speeches I wish I did,” he said quietly.
“I don’t need speeches, William. I don’t need poetry or Shakespearean wordplay. I simply need to know if you—if you love me the way . . . the way I love you.”
Shock, joy, and hope filled his face in an instant. “You love me?”
Felicity had promised Angelina she wouldn’t lose her courage, and she didn’t mean to break that vow. “I do love you.”
William rested his head against the top of hers, both his arms now wrapped around her. “I came here prepared to plead for some hope that you might, one day, learn to love me, ready to offer my heart with no promise of being granted any bit of yours.”
“I spoke the words, William. You needn’t offer them elegantly, but I do need to hear them.”
He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Felicity. I love you deeply, with all my heart.”
She bent her neck, looking up into his eyes. “If only you’d come home sooner, darling. We might’ve managed this moment without breaking so many rules.”
His smile blossomed. “Where would be the excitement in that?”
“I believe we could find a way of making the moment sufficiently exciting.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I am certain we could.”
She slid her hand from its place on his chest, over his collar, along his neck, and cupped his jaw. He tightened his arm around her, bringing her flush with him.
“We truly are breaking rules tonight,” she whispered.
His voice equally quiet and husky in its breathlessness, he said, “Let’s break one more.”
Their lips met without a hint of the hesitancy that had marked their arrival on the terrace. She folded her arms about his neck, clinging to him and the moment. He held her with equal amounts of tenderness and earnestness.
A perfect and wonderful moment.
Epilogue
Carlisle Manor had not hosted a wedding breakfast in thirty years, not since the day William’s parents were married. How grateful he was that Felicity suggested the festivities be held at his home rather than hers. The house needed every bit of happiness and joy it could be granted. Too many years had passed in mourning.
“Why do you keep looking at me that way?” she asked with a smile from her seat beside him.
“What way?”
“As if you were . . . a little shocked to see me here, but pleased at the same time.”
“Perhaps because I am yet perplexed at my undeserved good fortune and also unspeakably happy at this morning’s events.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “If your fortune holds, I will not come to my senses any time soon.”
Oh, how he adored her. She made him laugh, brought him joy and comfort. If he hadn’t stubbornly remained away in the years since his parents’ deaths, he might not have been consumed by his grief for so long.
“Thank you for being so understanding about the wedding trip,” she said quietly. “I am certain you would have preferred more time to ourselves.”
He kissed the top of her head. “There will be time for that, my dear.”
His gaze slid to Angelina, seated nearby between her parents. Her health had taken a turn for the worse. The doctors did not believe she had much time left. Felicity, understandably, wished to remain close. William had no desire to take from her the last remaining weeks or months she had with her sister.
“You have only just begun emerging from the cocoon of your earlier grief,” she said. “Are you equal to facing even more?”
“Together, I believe we can face anything at all.” He meant the bold words. Yes, there would be sorrow; there would be difficulties ahead for them. But neither of them was alone.
She looked up at him, happiness evident in her eyes despite the heaviness of their topic. “There is one destination I would like to formally request we visit.”
“Anywhere in all the world.” He waited to hear what place could mean so very much to her that she would request it specifically. Europe? The Americas? Someplace farther afield?
“Almack’s. The real Almack’s.”
He laughed, as he so often did with her. “I fear you will be sorely disappointed.”
“Never fear, my love. Together, I believe we can face anything at all.”
No matter that half the neighborhood was watching, no matter that doing so was likely to be met with shocked whispers, he kissed her. He kissed her fully and wholeheartedly, filling the gesture with the promise of years to come—years filled with laughter, with strength.
With love.
Check out the next romance by Sarah M. Eden:
Sarah M. Eden is the author of multiple historical romances, including the two-time Whitney Award Winner Longing for Home and Whitney Award finalists Seeking Persephone
and Courting Miss Lancaster. Combining her obsession with history and affinity for tender love stories, Sarah loves crafting witty characters and heartfelt romances. She has thrice served as the Master of Ceremonies for the LDStorymakers Writers Conference and acted as the Writer in Residence at the Northwest Writers Retreat. Sarah is represented by Pam Victorio at D4EO Literary Agency.
Visit Sarah online:
Twitter: @SarahMEden
Facebook: Author Sarah M. Eden
Website: SarahMEden.com
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