Chapter 31

Chapter

Thirty-One

C harlotte stood with Matilda and somehow managed to keep a smile on her lips, although she was far from being in the jovial mood for a ball. But this was her friend's event and the last ball of the Season she would attend, so she needed to stop wallowing and get on with life.

A life that increasingly seemed as if it would not involve Alexander. The thought of marrying someone else or even allowing another gentleman to court her was beyond heinous.

The idea of another man kissing her, intimately touching her, made her skin crawl. How could she love another when her heart still yearned for Alexander?

Blast the man for leaving her alone.

But then, the thought of attending the London Season next year, her fourth, was also a situation she did not want to confront. If she wasn't already pitied this year for still being on the marriage mart, she certainly would be next.

A soft rustling of gowns jostled through the crowd, and whispers began around them. Charlotte looked up toward the ballroom doors to see what all the commotion was about, and time stood still.

Standing in the doorway, bowing over Duchess Lane-Fox's hand was Alexander, now the Marquess Lacy. He proudly introduced Lady Lacy, an older woman with similar features to his, to the duchess.

He appeared so handsome in his fine, knee-length frock coat with elaborate embroidery. His waistcoat was silver and matched his highly starched shirt and cravat. His knee-length silk breeches hugged his muscular form, and Charlotte sighed, knowing the delights those pants concealed.

"Well, well, well. Look who's arrived after all. The rumors must have been true, but I didn't think he'd attend," Matilda said, throwing Charlotte a knowing look.

Charlotte sipped her champagne, her stomach a tumble of nerves. Why was Alexander here? Had he had a change of heart about his title? Was he here for her?

The idea that he might seek her out made her heart beat fast. She watched him laugh at something Matilda's mama said before escorting his mother into the gathered throng. He was so handsome and tall, towering over most in attendance. Many guests moved aside as they walked through the crowd, taking them in and introducing themselves.

She sighed. No matter how hurt and angry she had been after their quarrel in front of his mother's house, she still loved him.

So very much.

But did he still love her? Or did he look at her with the same disdain he held for everyone else born into the privileged world they lived in?

He spoke to his mother, leaving her with a group of older matrons of the ton before he began pushing through the room.

Where they stood, they could watch while remaining unseen, but soon, he would spy her—and then, she did not know what she would do.

"I think it is clear why Lord Lacy is here this evening," Matilda said, squeezing her hand in support. "You are one of my closest friends, and I adore you. You deserve this happiness, Charlotte, and I'm so happy I will be here to witness what is to come."

"Witness what is to come?" Charlotte asked, unable to tear her gaze from Alexander.

He continued making his way through the crowd, his attention moving from person to person as though seeking someone.

Was that someone her?

Her heart beat hard, and a prickle of heat kissed her skin. She had never seen him dressed as the marquess he now was—a birthright denied him, but how well it suited him. He was so handsome he made the breath in her lungs catch. How could she stay angry with him?

Not that she had ever honestly been disappointed in what they had said to each other. She understood his pain and had never meant to add to his fears. She adored him and only wanted the best for him. But did he still love her?

His gaze met hers across the room, and a determined light caught in his eyes. Although other guests tried to catch his attention, his stride never faltered toward her until he stood before her, the man she adored and wanted more than life itself.

"Lady Charlotte," he said, his voice deep, making her skin prickle with awareness. He picked up her hand and kissed her gloved fingers, the corner of his mouth lifting in a wicked grin.

"Lord Lacy," she said, using his title. "I did not think the rumors would be true and that you would attend."

"Ah yes, the many rumors," he said, smiling at Matilda, who moved several steps away to give them privacy. "Well, I wasn't going to attend, but my mind was changed, especially when faced with a future I did not want."

"Oh yes," she said, noting that he had not let go of her hand but continued to hold her fingers, playing with them delicately. Her pulse quickened. "And what kind of future were you warned of?" she asked.

He stepped closer, far nearer than suitable in such a public event, yet Charlotte could not move. Nor did she want to, in truth. In fact, even the feather's width that separated them was too far away from him.

"I was reminded that you would marry one day, be the dutiful daughter you are, and wed a high-ranking lord or duke. The thought of them holding you, kissing your sweet lips," his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and she gasped, "loving your body and soul was enough to make me accept who I am, so I may be that man who loves you forever and a day."

"So you're not angry with me?" she asked, her voice catching from Alexander's words.

He shook his head, reaching for her and cupping her face. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't mean anything I said those weeks ago. I was in shock and disappointed in my father and angry for everything that had been denied to me and my mother for no good reason. I don't blame you for saying what you did. Of course, being titled makes a marriage between us easier, and I knew that it did. I was merely being pigheaded and unwilling to bend on my loathing for my father."

"I'm sorry too," she said, covering Alexander's hands with hers before slipping them over his shoulders and pressing them against his chest. His warmth engulfed her, wrapping her in a cocoon of love. "I would have married you had you never inherited the title. I didn't mean to sound like you becoming a marquess was somehow better than what we had before. I meant no disrespect that way—only that it would make our lives easier. No one could look down on us or our children. I would not care if they did, should you have remained Mr. Richards, for as long as I had you, that was all that mattered."

"That is all that mattered to me too." He leaned forward and kissed her. Gasps sounded around them, along with a cacophony of delighted sighs.

Charlotte threw herself into his arms and kissed him with all the passion she had been denied these past weeks. She allowed all the fear and hope this evening had brought to the surface, showing Alexander how much she adored him.

"Marry me," he whispered against her lips, his eyes as glassy as hers.

She nodded, swallowed the lump in her throat, and somehow murmured in return, "Yes."