“For so long, I have wanted?.?.?. I had hoped to find a woman who would want me as a husband in every sense of the word. A woman who would be able to see beyond the titles I inherited at birth.”
He brought a hand up to her face and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes.
“I was endeared with you from the moment I watched you take command of caring for Master John when any other woman may have fainted away. I see you as a woman who will challenge me intellectually, a woman who will be my partner in life, and a woman who may even grow to love me.”
He placed her hand on his over his firm, broad chest. The wool of his tailcoat was rough against her fingers, the rhythmic drumming of his heart powerful. “My heart beats for you.”
They moved in close to one another. Interlacing her fingers with his, she methodically brought his other hand up to her own heart. It dwarfed her own. “I think you have already captured my heart.” Her body grew warm.
“Last night, I was terrified of all of the unknowns?.?.?.” she said. “Of all that I might have to give up, and by the possibility of what the future might bring. But I see now that I have been blinded. I should have looked to what I was gaining.?.?.”
They were now only millimeters apart. Helen smelled the scent of his lavender shaving soap. “A friend and a husband who will walk through life with me every step of the way. I will never be alone. And once more?.?.?. I will be loved.”
Mr. Marcellus brought her hand to his lips and gazed longingly into her eyes. Getting down onto one knee, he asked, “Miss Davenport. Will you do me the great honor of consenting to become my wife?”
“Yes, I will.”
He leapt up and wrapped his own arms around her, spinning her in a joyful circle. Her heart skipped a beat. In that moment, Helen knew that their marriage would be one full of laughter, love, children, and many happy years together.
He cupped her cheeks. “Now that we are an engaged couple, in private, may I call you by your given name?”
“I would expect nothing less from you.” Helen eagerly nodded. “And you, sir? How shall I address you? Robert? Your Grace? Willowbard? Marcellus? There are quite a few names you carry.”
His lips twisted. “For most of my life, Marcellus has been my nickname. I have always been drawn to Roman history. My schoolmates thought it fitting I be given a Roman name. Among close friends, it’s become the name I prefer to keep. But if you would be so inclined, when it is just us, I should like to be Robert to you.”
In a hushed tone, she tested his preferred name. “Robert. How well that sounds.”
“My mother was the last person to ever call me that.”
She inclined her head. “Do you think she would approve of me? I am a woman with a man’s education. I am not the type of woman whom a duke might traditionally seek out.”
“To Hades with society.” He rolled his eyes. “I would like to think my mama would be proud I have chosen a bride who fulfills me and goes against the status quo. There is a reason I prefer the country to Town.”
He was only making Helen fall for him more, as a country girl born and bred.
“May we have Papa come and stay at Springwood Hall with us for long lengths of time?” She walked her fingers up his arm. “I cannot bear to be parted from him.”
“I certainly hope so. I’m an Oxford man. He’s a Cambridge man. I require constant debates from the Cambridge riffraff to keep me in check and my mind sharp.” Helen rested her head on his shoulder. “You may also plan for us to spend much time at Winterbrook.”
She let out a large squeal and hugged him tightly again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you a thousand times, Robert.”
From the hallway, Papa’s head appeared, his eyes dancing with amusement. “From your reaction, I gather Helen has said yes?”
She nodded eagerly. “I have!”
Helen couldn’t believe it. After four Seasons of hoping to find a husband, at last, she’d succeeded.
“In spite of the circumstances of how this engagement has come to be, it makes this old man so content to see both my daughter and future son happy.” Papa reentered the room. “I just wish we knew who had started the viscous gossip.”
“Papa, that is what I was pondering before Robert arrived.”
Robert cleared his throat. “I believe I have an answer to your question. Without any shadow of a doubt, I can identify the culprit is none other than the disagreeable rogue Mr. Thomas Chapman.”
“The scoundrel!” Mr. Davenport shouted, banging his fist on the table.
“I suspected as much.” Helen gritted her teeth.
“Mr. Chapman is a distant cousin of mine and the godson of my late mother. She always harbored a soft spot for him, despite his knack for getting into trouble. After Mr. Chapman’s father fell upon hard times, it was mutually decided that my sister would become his betrothed. Yet due to unforeseen circumstances, that never came to pass.”