His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

She had to speak with him. No more skirting the subject. With a bolt of newfound energy Victoria leapt up and almost collided with Halston.

“Your Grace.” Halston extended a lush red rose toward her. “If you will accompany me, please.”

Hope slowly poured back into her drained soul. Inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flower, she dutifully followed Halston down the hall and tried to calm her heart as he led her through the library and out onto the terrace.

The refreshing night air restored her to complete vigor. She surveyed the back garden. Most of it lay in darkness and shadow, but a glow of light emanated from one corner.

“Here you are, ma’am,” Halston said as he handed her a lantern. He indicated another rose lying on the ground. “Follow the flowers.”

“Thank you, Halston,” she whispered.

She floated down the steps of the terrace and picked up the next red rose. The lantern created eerie shadows on the darkened garden path, but she hardly noticed. Collecting the roses, she counted them so as to keep herself from running pell-mell to the gazebo in the corner. Soon she could hardly carry all of them. By the time she entered the clearing her arms were laden with thirty-four de-thorned roses. The exact number of days that had passed since she had first met Taviston on the street.

As she looked up at the gazebo, her muscles went lax and the flowers spilled to the ground. Candles placed around the railing bathed the white and yellow structure in a soft, dreamy light. Taviston stood in the center, Arthur sitting proudly by his side.

Lifting her skirts, she skipped joyfully up the steps and without thought launched herself at Taviston. He unhesitatingly opened his arms and caught her up in a tight embrace while her feet dangled in the air. She kept her eyes locked on his but knew without looking around that pink rose petals were scattered everywhere—the scene was set exactly as she had described it the night she’d spun her proposal tale to the ton.

He beamed the biggest and brightest smile she had yet seen. She kissed him loudly and then wriggled her way down to the floor, speaking quickly before he could.

“Before you say anything else, it’s my turn.” His smile had vanished, and he nodded. “I did not marry you because you are a duke, though I did try to tell myself that was the reason. Actually, I married you in spite of your being a duke.” Taviston quirked an eyebrow at her statement. “I think it’s more than evident from the last five hours that I have no business being a duchess.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she raised her hand and silenced him. “No. Bother, I’m not saying any of this very well. Let me put it more simply.” She looked into his grey, smoky eyes. “I love you, Taviston. I truly love you and that is the only reason I married you. Behind your staid and proper façade, you are everything I ever wanted in a man.”

A wide grin spanned his face once again. “Well, that makes this much, much easier,” he said mysteriously while dropping to one knee and reaching for her hand.

“Taviston, what are you doing?”

“Victoria, you are the one for me. I can see that clearly now. I cannot imagine spending the rest of my days, let alone even one day, without you. Will you marry me?”

“We are already married.”

“Not properly.”

“It doesn’t get much more proper than St. George’s Church on a Saturday, during the Season, with much of Society looking on.”

Heaving a huge sigh, he hung his head. “Will you just answer the question?”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Here her sweet husband was attempting to be romantic and she was trying to ruin it with practicalities. Poor man. She tugged on his hand until he raised his head, so she might look him in the eye.

“Yes, yes, I will marry you.”

“Meow,” Arthur affirmed.

Taviston rose up and gathered her into his arms, kissing her soundly on the lips. “Excellent. I don’t know about you, but I did not much enjoy the ceremony at St. George’s.”

“Me neither,” she whispered while drawing his head down for another kiss.

After a moment he withdrew his lips, kissed the top of her head and hugged her close. “I apologize for bringing this up now, but we haven’t had a chance to speak all day. Did Louisa tell you anything when you confronted her this afternoon?”

She hugged him tighter. “She still wouldn’t talk. Her secret motive is all she has left.”

“Jealousy, perhaps?”

“Maybe. She certainly tried to keep me from marrying.” She tilted her head back. “Those horrible gowns she made me wear! You should have run. I am clothed better now, but I still seem to always end up looking ridiculous.” She swept her hands down her pudding-stained gown.

Taviston smiled. “You look perfect to me.”

She couldn’t stop herself. “Do you really love me?”