Oh.
Oh.
She was speechless. Those persistent tears returned, prickling her eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. He was speaking of her.
“I believe,” she managed weakly, “that we may be acquainted.”
“You are.” He released her hands and cupped her face. “Because she is you. I love you, Pen Sutton. I have spent the last few years being the man society expected of me. But I want to spend the rest of my life being your man, if you will have me.”
“You love me,” she repeated, afraid to trust those words. Afraid to believe them.
And yet, needing to so badly, it was a physical ache.
“I love you,” he said again. “Will you marry me?”
Yes! It was there, on her tongue, but she suppressed it. She had spent every moment since he had left her the night before in agony, and he needed to answer for it.
“Just last night, you said what happened between us was a mistake,” she reminded him.
“Last night, I was an arse, and I must beg your forgiveness.” His gaze roamed hers, love shining in those brilliant depths. “What happened between us was a mistake because I should have waited until I was your husband to make love to you. I should have had some honor and restraint, but where you are concerned, it would seem I have none. Nothing can keep me from wanting you to be mine. Not the belief you were betrothed to my brother, not my parents, not the ton, not Lady Hester. Nothing and no one can keep me from loving you.”
He loved her.
Garrick loved her.
But as much as his words filled her with hope and happiness, the vast disparities in their worlds had not disappeared.
“I was born in the East End,” she forced herself to say. “I will never be a lady.”
“You are a lady in every way that matters,” he countered. “I want you and only you.”
“Your society will scorn me,” she added. “If you feared the scandal Aidan marrying me would have caused, what do you think would happen if you were to marry me? You will be a duke one day.”
“I will be a duke who is madly in love with his duchess,” he said gently.
“Tongues will wag,” she continued. “You know it as well as I do. A lord as prominent as yourself cannot wed an East End Sutton without being disparaged.”
“Let the tongues wag. Let the gossip mongers spread their scandal broth. All I want to do is love you. Marry me, Pen.”
He was intent upon his course, resolute. And she was weary of trying to dissuade him. The events of the previous night, a lack of sleep, and heartache all battered away at the crumbling walls of her defenses.
“I love you too,” she conceded at last. “And I would be honored to be your wife.”
“I told you I could be happier,” he said, grinning. “And you have made me so. You’ll not regret it, Pen. I swear. I will do my utmost to be the husband you deserve.”
“I believe you, Lord Lordly,” she teased, smiling against a rush of joyous tears this time.
“Hoyden.” He kissed her crown, no sting in the word. “What am I to do with you?”
She pretended to ponder his question before smiling up at him, love filling her with a new, previously undiscovered sense of wonder. “Kiss me first. And then make me your Lady Lordly.”
“With pleasure,” he said, before his lips sealed over hers.