“There’s one thing more I’d like to say before the flight is underway.”
“There is?” She couldn’t stop the tremble that moved down her spine. Across the green, Mr. Davies—the bastard—was giving a speech to huzzahs and cheers. A glance to one side showed the dowager looking between them with an expression of anticipation.
He nodded, and as if the gathering crowd didn’t matter, the viscount dropped to one knee. “Anne, we’ve known each other for almost two months.”
“Yes, this is so.” She could hardly breathe, and she held a gloved hand to her throat.
“And in that time, you’ve nearly killed me—twice—terrified me on more than one occasion, annoyed me several times, shattered my heart, and had me more distracted than I could ever remember.”
Anne pressed her lips together. “Is that all you would say?”
“Yes.” Benedict shook his head. “I mean, no.” He blew out a breath and gave her a wry smile. “You’d think after asking this twice before, I’d have a better grasp on the situation. However, there is so much more.” He took one of her hands in his. “In that time, I’ve also fallen in love with you irrevocably; madly, hopelessly in love even though the doing is so damn risky and terrifying that I can’t sleep some nights.”
Her heart squeezed. “How well I understand those sentiments because I’ve suffered from them myself during our separation.”
“You have?” Need warred with affection in the depths of his eyes, now more green than brown from the emotion he labored under.
“I have.” She nodded. “But please continue. No doubt Mr. Davies will end his speech soon and I don’t want him to have the advantage on us.” For she’d take Benedict up in her balloon as many times as he wished if only he’d give her another chance to remain in his life.
“Right.” The viscount renewed his hold on her hand. “I’ve figured numerous calculations of a union between us, and despite knowing those long odds, I threw out my figuring because I’ve decided to go forward on faith.” His eyes darkened the longer he peered up at her, and he slid his spectacles back into place with his index finger. “I love you, Anne. That state has its roots in trust, and it doesn’t tremble in fear at the what ifs. Neither will I.”
“Benedict—”
“Wait.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “I’m not perfect; I have flaws I’m aware of and am working on conquering. There will undoubtedly be days where we’ll fight and stay cross at one another. But I can also promise you happy days and plenty of blue skies. A lifetime of devotion. Of flying in whichever way you’d like.”
Was there ever a more romantic, heartfelt speech? Her hand shook in his. “I love you too.” Tears welled in her eyes. She gave into a soft laugh. “I rather hoped I wouldn’t turn into a watering pot so early in the day.”
“Such is life, sweeting.” He shrugged. “Emotions are part of us.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I didn’t know I loved you until that crash at the fair when I thought I’d die. I didn’t want to expire until I told you what was in my heart, but then I was terrified when you proposed. Things between us were so fast, so intense. I wasn’t in control of myself around you.”
“It’s understandable.” He delved his free hand into the interior pocket of his jacket, drew forth his handkerchief, and gave it to her.
“Thank you.” As she mopped at her damp cheeks, his scent that clung to the linen square overwhelmed her, and her knees trembled anew. “Know this. I have my own flaws and I’m certainly not perfect.”
He pushed at his spectacles. “You don’t need to be.”
“I refuse to be put on a pedestal for you to admire or treat me like a goddess. We’re equals, you and I.”
“I completely understand, and I’ve learned that lesson well.”
Anne nodded. “Also, I don’t intend to change the very essence of who I am to suit your life. It would be much like caging a wild bird. I’m not a proper ton woman, and never will be.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Neither do I want you to change, for I’ve become accustomed to you and the way you’ve sent my life tip over tail. Since we’ve been apart, I’ve craved that uncertainty, that adventure.”
Another veil of tears pooled in her eyes. “I’ll make mistakes.”
“As will I.”
“It’s how we learn,” she added in a barely there whisper.
“I’m learning that also because of you, Anne.” When he once more gave her that specific grin that threatened to turn her insides into mush, she sighed.
After another volley of tears, she had no choice except to blow her nose. “Pardon me. That’s hardly romantic.”
“Debatable, but it’s you, and it’s adorable.”
A huff came from the direction of the dowager. “Do you two even know how to put forth a proposal and acceptance? End your speeches, for heaven’s sake, and get on with it!”