Chapter 24

Letty was having a strange afternoon.

When she got home from Emily's house, her mother was waiting for her. "Come, Letty. You need to dress for Lady Sunderland's ball."

"Do I?" Letty checked the clock in the entryway. "It's only half four. Surely I have another hour before I need to—"

Her mother seized her wrist and began towing her up the stairs. "Right now. Every eye will be upon you tonight. You must look your very best."

Letty sighed but didn't argue.

When they got to her room, Letty saw that her maid, Sarah, had already laid out a gown. It was the same dress she'd been wearing the night Vander first approached her to ask for her help in finding him a bride. The night she had briefly thought he was proposing to her.

It was a pretty dress, white with a purple sash and purple wisteria embroidered about the hem. But Letty hadn't been able to stand the sight of it since that horrible night. "Thank you, Sarah, but I'd rather wear—"

"You'll wear this one," her mother said, cutting her off.

Letty peered at her mother, confused. "But you hate it when I wear purple."

Her mother flicked open her fan. "Nonsense. You look lovely in purple."

Now Letty was sure she was losing her mind. "It's not even a ballgown. Surely it's not appropriate for—"

"It's your most stunning dress, and you're going to wear it," her mother said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Letty tried to protest, because honestly, just seeing the dress laid out upon her bed made her feel melancholy. But her mother and Sarah eventually managed to browbeat her into it.

Her mother stayed for the dressing process, seating herself on the bed. Which was unusual, but so long as she was there… "Mama? Might I ask for your advice?"

"Of course, darling."

Letty bit her lip. "It's just that I haven't yet decided which of my suitors to accept. If I'm being honest… I can't really imagine marrying either of them."

Her mother waved this off. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that overly much."

Letty couldn't believe her ears. "My entire future depends upon it! Of course, I'm worried about making the right choice."

Her mother patted her hand. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, darling. All right, downstairs we go!"

Befuddled, Letty allowed her mother to shoo her down the stairs and into the crimson parlor, where she found another surprise waiting for her. "Emily? What are you doing here?"

Emily bounced on the balls of her feet. "Your mother suggested I come over. To accompany you to the Sunderland ball!"

"I—I'm sure I could use the support." It was true, but Letty couldn't quite countenance that her friend looked so giddy about the prospect.

David would be back from his trip to canvass for votes. No doubt Emily was excited about the prospect of seeing her true love after a few days' absence.

But Letty was about as excited as if she were heading to her own funeral. For just a moment last night, after Vander had kissed her with such passion, and said he would call on her, she had allowed herself to hope that maybe he was going to propose.

But he hadn't come. As usual, her hopes had run away with her. Evander Beauclerk had no intentions, at least where she was concerned.

She dropped her voice down to a whisper. "Emily, the truth is… I still don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to marry either of them, and—oh!"

She gave a start as someone seized her elbow. The scent of a familiar cinnamon-and-ginger shaving tonic washed over her.

"Vander?" she asked, turning to blink at him. And surely enough, there he was, looking heart-stoppingly handsome in his black evening kit, his hair artfully rumpled, as usual.

He smiled at her, then pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand—with her mother and father looking on!

As she stared at him, befuddled, she noticed something glinting in his cravat. It was an oval-shaped gem the size of her thumbnail, set upon a stickpin, in her very favorite color, a bright, sparkling violet.

"Vander!" she breathed. "What's that?"

He brought a hand to his cravat. "Do you mean my stickpin? It's a purple sapphire."

"It's stunning," she said, gazing at it longingly. "It's the most beautiful jewel I've ever seen."

He barked out a laugh. "I'm so pleased to hear you say that. But look at me, getting off script. I need to speak with you."

Letty frowned. "Getting off script? What do you mean—"

Ignoring her, Vander turned to Emily. "You don't mind if I steal Letty away, do you, Miss Arbuthnot?"

Emily squeezed Letty's hand, smiling broadly. "Not at all!"

Vander offered his arm to Letty. "Shall we?"

Letty looped her arm through his. "Of course. But, Vander, what are you—"

"I'll tell you in a minute. When we don't have an audience."

He led her toward the back of the house. All of this felt so familiar—the dress, Vander stealing up behind her, him taking her off alone, that she couldn't help but wonder…

But no. She had got her hopes up over Evander Beauclerk too many times before, only to be crushed when he inevitably let her down. She wasn't going to do that again.

One of their footmen, Bert, was standing at attention in the hallway, holding a tray upon which rested two glasses of champagne. Vander scooped both up in one hand without breaking stride.

He stopped just outside of her father's private study, chuckling as he realized he didn't have a free hand to open the door.

He pulled his left arm free from hers in order to reach for the knob, but Letty grabbed his hand. "Vander, wait. What are you doing?"

His smile was tender. "I'm doing it right this time."

Letty swallowed, refusing to allow herself to hope. "Doing what right? What are you—oh, my gracious!"

He had managed to open the door, and that was when she saw the flowers. There had to be two dozen vases of purple irises, and white rose petals scattered across the carpet.

Her heart was thundering. She had vowed not to get her hopes up. Not to get ahead of herself. Again.

But… this certainly seemed like a proposal. And, of course, she had thought that before, and it turned out to be nothing of the sort! But surely…

Vander shut the door behind them. Letty allowed him to guide her into one of the leather wing chairs, mouth agape, and accepted the glass of champagne he pressed into her hands.

He took the seat facing hers and smiled. "I need to ask you for a terrible favor. You see, my father is demanding that I marry."

Her hands were trembling so hard, she was afraid she would spill her champagne, so she set it down on the side table. She felt a tear slip across her cheek.

He continued, "And I was trying to think who I could possibly marry." They were the same words he'd spoken when they sat in this very room one week ago.

But this time, as he said, "And then, I thought of you," he rose from his seat, pulled a tiny black leather box from his pocket, and went down on one knee before her.

Now the tears were streaming down her face. She wasn't capable of forming words, so he continued, "You were actually my mother's suggestion. And as soon as I managed to pull my head out of my arse, I realized she was right."

That startled a laugh out of her. His rich brown eyes were warm as he said, "I'm jesting. At least, a little bit. But I'm not joking about this."

He flipped the box open, and she gasped. Inside lay the most beautiful ring. The center stone was identical to the one he wore in his cravat, a brilliant oval-shaped sapphire in a rich shade of lilac, surrounded by a halo of rose-cut diamonds.

He gestured to the stone at his neck. "These are sister stones. They once formed one larger gem that was split down the middle when it was found. They are perfectly matched, two halves of one whole. My mother was telling me about it today—in India, purple sapphires are believed to bring their wearer awakening and enlightenment. They help you find your life's purpose, the place where you belong."

He smiled up at her from the floor where he knelt. "It took me long enough. But I finally figured out my place. It's with you. I love you, Letty. You're my other half, the one I want to spend my life with. Will you marry me?"

"Y-yes," she sputtered, tears pouring down her face. She laughed as she brushed her thumbs across her cheeks. "These are happy tears. I've been in love with you since I was ten."

He gave a startled laugh. "Have you really? All I needed was a chance to notice that you were no longer ten. That, and the fact that every time you tried to introduce me to someone else, I found myself wishing I was with you instead. It took me a few days, but I finally figured out what that meant."

He took her hand and slipped on the ring. Letty was so happy she thought her heart might burst.

Vander framed her face, and he was just leaning in to kiss her when the door flew open.

"Go away," he growled, glaring toward the door.

"Not a chance," his mother said, striding into the room. "Letty, darling, come here. Let me see my future daughter."

Trailing behind his mother was a crowd that included Letty's parents, Emily, and even his father. Letty was immediately surrounded, and the ladies began exclaiming over her ring.

Vander sighed. So much for having a moment to celebrate with his future bride.

He narrowed his eyes at his father as he rose from the floor. "What are you doing here?"

His father blinked at him from behind his spectacles. "What do you mean? It's not every day that your only son proposes marriage."

"Yes. But it's six o'clock. Shouldn't you still be at the office?"

"I've left the office at six before."

Vander arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Since when?"

His father drew himself up. "It was on the twenty-second of September, 1796."

Vander blanched. "Did you just make a joke?" Dear God. Who was this man, and where was the rigid quiz he knew and loved?

His father jabbed awkwardly at Vander's arm with another one of his signature bent-wrist punches. "What can I say? I think you're rubbing off on me, son."

Over in the cluster surrounding Letty, Lady Baldridge exclaimed, "This is such a happy day. I can't wait to tell David!"

Everyone murmured agreement except for Vander. Seeing his drawn expression, the countess asked, "What is it, Vander?"

Vander shrugged. He wasn't changing his mind, regardless of whether his best friend disowned him. He would be crushed, of course, but he needed Letty in his life even more than he wanted David. "I fear David won't regard it as good news."

"He will," Emily said. "I know he will."

"You're his dearest friend," Lady Baldridge added. "How could he be anything other than thrilled?"

They didn't understand. But the only way he could explain David's true feelings would be to reveal the full extent of his former debauchery.

He didn't have the stomach for doing that, especially in front of his own mother.

So, he merely shrugged. "I'm not so sure."

Lady Baldridge clapped her hands. "Well, the servants have laid out a light dinner in the other room. Let's eat, and then we can head to Lady Sunderland's ball together."