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The closet wouldn’t be good enough. Perhaps he would have to send her away to Taviston Hall and have her confined there.

Lady Percival still held a considerable measure of suspicion in her eyes, which only seemed to spur Victoria on.

Even though at least ten people were now openly listening to this tale, Victoria leaned towards the viscountess, lowered her voice, and said, “Perhaps you haven’t heard about Taviston’s proposal? I declare, I never could have imagined being part of such a romantic tableau.”

He might have to resort to sending her to Bedlam after all. This was the height of absurdity.

Lady Percival bared her teeth in a horrible semblance of a smile. “Do tell, my dear. Do tell.”

At this point the crowd around them grew even larger and Taviston could see Northfield and Jane on the edge of it. If it hadn’t been his life, the entire episode might have been amusing, downright comical even. He could hardly wait to hear the manner in which he had proposed. He was fairly certain there wouldn’t be any mention of a guardian making threats, a bride-to-be turning to blackmail or a groom-to-be dragging his fiancée down the halls of Taviston House.

Victoria lowered her voice, but the assemblage had no trouble hearing her, as they had all stopped moving and even breathing.

“I called at his home to visit the duchess. But Halston, the butler, led me out of doors instead. He swept his hand toward a red rose lying on the ground and then disappeared.” Victoria had a faraway look on her face, as if she were actually reliving the moment. “I picked up the rose, which had thoughtfully been stripped of its thorns, and then discovered another one lying on the ground a bit farther on. More roses followed, leading me down a path in the garden. There were nineteen in all; Taviston told me later there was one for each day since we had met.”

She bestowed another loving look on Taviston. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or scream or just strangle her with his bare hands when next they were alone. But nothing could stop her now.

“The final rose lay at the foot of the steps of a beautiful gazebo bathed in sunlight. Taviston stood inside with pink rose petals scattered everywhere. The intoxicating scent of the flowers was absolutely glorious.”

She was good at this; he could almost smell the roses himself.

“After greeting me, he then bade me sit on one of the cushioned benches. I truly had no idea what he was about, but then he dropped down on one knee and I could not keep a tear from spilling from my eye.”

Good grief, this was a bit much, wasn’t it? Although, when he glanced around, he noticed moisture in more than one lady’s eyes. Amazing.

“He took my hand in his and said...” her voice faltered and then she stopped speaking altogether.

In the instant before she looked up at him, Taviston knew what she was going to do. God help her when they were all alone.

With a tremulous smile, she cocked her head to one side. “I am certain you could repeat your words so much better than I, my darling. Just the thought of them overwhelms me.” To punctuate this dramatic statement, two teardrops escaped her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks.

Taviston had no idea what to say. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. To stall for time, he turned toward Victoria; took her hand in his; and then covered it with his other hand. The contact helped to steel his nerves.

“And I said...” he searched her eyes and saw amusement, but also encouragement. “I said, ‘My angel, I can hardly recall my life before your sweet smile greeted me for the first time. I have thought of little else since then. You have become the very essence of my existence. Without you, my world would have no color, no sound, no fragrance. My beloved, would you walk by my side the rest of my days and fill my world with the joy only you can bring? Will you be my wife?’”

Taviston wasn't sure which of them was more astounded. He had no idea where those words had come from or how he had managed to say them in such a sincere tone.

Victoria hid her surprise well and gave him a brilliant smile. “Of course I said, ‘Yes!’”

There were sighs of pleasure from the ladies around them, while the gentlemen nodded their heads. Lady Percival looked bemused, but she mustered a smile. “My congratulations to the both of you. I fail to see how the two of you could do anything but enjoy the rest of your lives together, bound as you are by such affection.”

Taviston decided to put a stop to this theatrical performance before Victoria moved on to act two. “I feel in need of some fresh air. Would you join me on the terrace, my sweet?”

Victoria had the self-preservation to look a little wary, but she assented.

They acknowledged those around them briefly and then made their way to the terrace doors. As they reached the exit, Victoria turned to him. “I’m not sure we should stop yet. They are still watching.”

Opening the door, he resisted the urge to march her through it. Instead, he grasped her arm gently and drew her to a halt. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Thank you...I think.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Victoria was pleased with both herself and Taviston. Wherever had his eloquence come from? Well, thank heaven those beautiful words had fallen from his lips. She wasn’t sure why she had passed off the actual proposal to him. In the moment she had done it, she had been confident he would continue the charade ably. It was only when he paused that she realized he might not be capable of improvising a fictional proposal in front of thirty people. But really, he had already proven himself capable of fabrication before, so why should tonight have been any differen

t?

She wanted to linger on the terrace but Taviston propelled her down the steps and into the garden. They reached a clearing with a small circular fountain and two benches. The trees surrounding them bore lanterns on their branches, providing adequate light with which to see each other. Taviston dropped her elbow and walked to the far side of fountain. He turned his back to her. Victoria very much feared he was gathering strength for his fury.

Wheeling around he flung out an arm, pointing in the direction of the house. “That was the most outrageous thing I have ever witnessed!” he whisper-yelled, his voice quaking with rage.


Tags: Charlotte Russell His and Hers Historical