Yet it was not her father nor the decision concerning the theater that bothered her. Rather it was herself. She had concealed far too much from the man for whom she had come to care. And although she would tell him, now was not an appropriate time.
The carriage slowed to a stop, and Louisa alighted, Ruth following after. They had stopped just before the crest of a tall, lush-green hill. Louisa’s wide-brimmed hat shaded her from the warm rays of the sun that hung in a deep-blue sky, and she stopped to draw in a deep breath, savoring the freshness of the air.
Sir Aaron offered his arm. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to complete our journey to the top on foot.”
She followed his gaze up the slope, which led to a rocky peak.
“I think I’ll remain here,” Ruth said, crossing her arms with a scowl and leaning against the carriage. “I’m not up for climbing mountains.”
Louisa, however, snaked her arm through his and grinned. “Well, I’m up for the challenge.”
The climb was far more difficult than she first thought. Soon, she was panting, and her calves were straining with the effort.
“Tomorrow, we learn the fate of the theater,” he said. “How do you feel?”
Louisa sighed. “I’m excited and yet also worried. But if I’ve given my best proposal, all I can do is leave it up to the attendees to decide. And you? What are your thoughts on the matter?”
The knight shook his head but offered no explanation. Instead, he said, “Lord Walcott mentioned this place to me. From what he says, it should be well worth the trouble.”
She gave a winded laugh. “Well, I certainly hope so. I doubt I’ve worked so hard to go anywhere since I was a girl.”
Yet when they reached the crest, they were both left speechless. They were rewarded with the most fantastic view Louisa had ever seen. Below them lay the village of Chatsworth, the sun’s rays highlighting it as if it were a scene on a stage. Stone walls and hedgerows indicated the divisions between properties. Houses and estates speckled the lush green fields. Tiny white dots marked herds of sheep.
“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed. “I don’t think I’ve seen anything so lovely in my life.”
“I have,” he said.
She turned to find him looking at her, and a flush coursed through her body.
“You’re so beautiful, Miss Louisa,” he whispered. Hearing her name on his tongue warmed her soul. “Working together these past weeks has made me see you’re more than simply beautiful.” Her heart fluttered as he took her hands in his. “But I cannot allow this to go any further without confessing something to you.”
“What is it? You may tell me whatever you wish. Nothing will change what I feel for you.”
“I’ve no doubt that is true.” He shifted his feet and dropped his gaze. Something was wrong, although she could not fathom what it could be. He was no rogue and certainly had no illegitimate children. What was he keeping from her?
“I’m not the hero you believe me to be.”
Louisa shook her head. “But you saved the Princess.”
“Perhaps, but not in the way everyone believes.”
Louisa nodded. “What do you mean?”
“I was in London, on Regent Street, when Her Majesty stepped from a carriage. A harmless old drunk was, let’s say… enthusiastic when he saw her. So much so that he rushed toward the vehicle. I did nothing more than hold him back, but the story grew within seconds. Regent Street became a faraway forest, and the drunkard became a band of thieves. My holding back the man became a battle with swords. The more the story was told, the grander it became.”
He shrugged. “Two weeks later, I was summoned to the palace where the King himself offered me a knighthood. If I deny the part I played, the Princess is deemed a liar. After all, she made no attempt to rectify the events. But if I accept, it makes me a liar. I chose the latter to save Her Majesty from embarrassment, but even that would be untrue. I enjoyed the attention I received for my heroic act. Or rather as my factious act.”
A soft breeze blew past them, and for a moment, all was quiet. Although Louisa wished to console him, she sensed he had more to say.
“I’m no hero. Nor am I a great businessman. I admit I have some ability, but not to the degree I have led everyone to believe. For all my shortcomings, I have but one hope—that you’re not disappointed because of the lie I’ve perpetuated. Because I love you, Miss Louisa, and would like nothing more than for you to be my wife.”
If Sir Aaron had not been holding Louisa by the hands, she would have tumbled down the steep incline. He loved her! Oh, he had misrepresented himself, certainly, but the fault was not all his own. And what harm came from rumors that augmented a man’s honor? It was not as if he created the tale himself.
He loved her!
If he was willing to bare his soul at the expense of his integrity, she could reveal that which she held closest to her heart. Something she had told no one, not even her closest and dearest friends.
“Do you recall when I told you about my sisters?” she began.