Page 24 of To Have & To Hold

“Now if we are quite done discussing the reasons why I should not marry Emilia, we should move on to the specifics of how I will marry her. Because quite frankly, there is no reason for you to refuse me.” He smiled humorlessly. “I will not even ask you to increase her dowry.”

Emilia felt as though she ought to applaud the miraculous display she had just witnessed. Never had she seen her uncle rendered speechless, yet here he stood—slack-jawed and wholly defenseless before a man half his age and twice his consequence.

“We can speak in my study,” Lord Moorfield said, fists clenched tightly at hisside.

“I would like a moment alone with your niece first, if you do not mind.” The duke nodded towards the corner where Emilia still sat.

Lord Moorfield’s eyes flamed, but he gestured for his wife to step out of the room, and he followed a few steps behind her. “Propriety hardly matters now, does it?” He muttered as he closed the door behind them.

Emilia wasn’t sure if she should be in awe of the man standing before her, or terrified of him. But the moment the sitting room door closed, the icy gaze that had been pointed at her guardians softened as the duke knelt in front of her chair.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently.

Emilia nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Are you certain?” He laid a hand on top of hers, and she felt the warmth from it spread all the way to her toes.

She forced a smile. “I understand your concern, considering my state last evening, but I assure you, I am usually not so delicate. I was simply overwhelmed.”

He nodded, but she could see the doubt in his eyes. “I understand. It was an overwhelming evening.”

The duke’s gaze lowered to the floor, and she felt a slight tremble run through the hand that still held hers so delicately. If Emilia had not just witnessed the way he so confidently challenged her uncle, she would have thoughthim to be nervous.

“Emilia, it has come to my attention that I may have overlooked something very important last night.” His voice was quiet, and Emilia’s stomach dropped to the floor. Surely he would not go back on his word now, not after everything he had said to her uncle.

“What is that, Your Grace?” She asked.

“There is a question I forgot to ask you.” He lifted his eyes back to hers, every line of his face softened with a tender vulnerability that nearly stole her breath.

“Will you honor me by becoming my wife?”

Emilia knew she did not truly have a choice, but something about being asked pulled at her heart. The duke looked at her as he waited for her answer, as if he needed to hear her say it as much as she had needed to hear him ask.

Emilia smiled, placing her other hand on top of the one that held hers.

“I will, Your Grace.”

∞∞∞

Nathaniel could still feel the weight of Emilia’s hand on his, even as he sat in Lord Moorfield’s study. The man had been delaying the process unnecessarily, and it was bothering Nathaniel that he couldn’t figure out why.

The situation surrounding the proposal was not ideal, but regardless of that, any man should be elated at the prospect of a young woman under his care marrying a duke—so why did Lord Moorfield seem as though he would rather give her to anyone else?

The man was reading over the marriage settlement Nathaniel’s solicitor had drafted that morning, his brow furrowed. It was not a very long contract, or very complicated. He was stalling, and after the scene that had played out in the sitting room, Nathaniel’s patience for the man had been spent.

“Are you having trouble with your eyes, Lord Moorfield?”

Lord Moorfield looked up with a start. “No, Your Grace,” he said with confusion.

“A headache then?”

“No, I feel perfectly fine,” the earl replied. “Why do you ask?”

“You have been staring at those articles for quite some time.” Nathaniel gestured towards the papers. “If you are having trouble comprehending them, I would be more than happy to explain them to you.”

Lord Moorfield took in a deep breath and swallowed hard before answering. “No trouble. I am just simply surprised.”

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair with a grin, crossing his arms across his chest. “I get the impression you are not fond of surprises.”