“Sophie,” Ned interrupted in a hoarse voice.
“I’m babbling again, aren’t I?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew the horses to a halt. They were far from the house now, stopped near a bank of snow on the outskirts of the woods. He tied off the reins and turned in the seat to face her. He looked at her for a long moment. And then he cleared his throat. “I thought you were going to end things. I thought—now that you’re free—you wouldn’t want—”
“What my sister said last night was rubbish, however well-intentioned. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you that.”
“And much more besides.”
Her cheeks burned. “I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t I?”
“Embarrassed me? You knocked the sense out of me. For an instant, I didn’t know where I was.” His mouth hitched in the faintest half smile. “I love you, you know. So much that I’ve spent all day trying to reconcile myself to accepting your rejection with good grace.”
He loved her.
Her heart swelled in her breast at his declaration. For the first time in her life, she feared she might actually fall into a swoon. “You really love me, Ned?” she asked softly. And then: “Wait…what rejection?”
“The one you were going to give me this evening.” He reached for her, his hand coming to cradle her cheek in that way of his. He regarded her steadily, his blue gaze as solemn as it was tender. “And yes, my darling girl. I really do love you.”
She blinked as tears stung her eyes. “Then you’ll marry me?”
He gave a short, husky laugh. “My God, yes.”
Sophie smiled. And though that smile might be a little watery, Ned didn’t seem to mind. He looked at her for a moment longer, as if she were the finest thing he’d ever seen, then his head bent to hers and he kissed her.
She brought her arms to circle his neck, clinging to him as his lips moved on hers. He kissed her slowly, deeply, claiming her mouth with a thoroughness that left them both breathless. And she kissed him in return, sweetly, ever so sweetly, until he pulled back with a groan to rest his forehead against hers.
“Sophie,” he said in a husky murmur.
She let her fingers run through the hair at his nape. “I like you like this. Your hair disheveled and your cravat rumpled. It’s much less intimidating than how you looked in London.”
He nuzzled her cheek. “And how was that?”
“Too cold. Too perfect. And far too quiet for me to know what you were thinking. That wasn’t the real you.”
“No. It was…” He trailed off, eyes closing as Sophie moved her lips over his in the barest whisper of a kiss.
“What?”
“Bad advice. From a book.”
She drew back to look at him. “What sort of book?”
It was dark, the only light coming from the small lamp on the sleigh, but Sophie could have sworn that a flush crept into Ned’s cheeks. “An etiquette book. For gentlemen.
Her brows lifted.
“I bought it at Hatchard’s the day your father gave me permission to court you. Suffice to say, the advice within its pages wasn’t as practical as the sort offered by your Mr. Darwin.”
“Mr. Darwin doesn’t write etiquette books.”
“No, indeed. And yet, I suspect you’ve been using his teachings as a guide. Trying to adapt yourself to rapidly changing circumstances. To acclimate yourself to marrying a tradesman.”
It was her turn to blush. “Perhaps in the beginning.”
“And now?”
“I still think it rather sensible. The world is changing. We can’t keep doing the same thing anymore, can we?”
“No. But it’s not going to be easy for you, Sophie. There’s much you’ll have to give up. The society matrons in London—”
“I don’t give a fig about them. If they want to shun me, they may do so with my good wishes. I’ve never sought the approval of the beau monde.” She slid her hand around the back of his neck. “At the moment, I’m more concerned with the approval of your mother.”
“You already have it.” Ned paused before adding, “Though she’s a bit out of temper with you for rejecting me this evening.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Never mind my mother. Look up, Sophie.”
The night sky was lit with stars. They twinkled like diamonds nestled on a bed of black velvet. She inhaled a soft breath at the perfect beauty of it.