Joe kicked the snow with his boot and grumbled under his breath. It had been a hell of an afternoon. After he’d left Cecilia in the library with Peter Turner asking for her hand he’d retreated to his room, his head spinning with regrets and self-recriminations The first of the guests had begun to arrive and he hadn’t wanted to be forced to make small talk with anyone as he left Hawthorn House. So instead he had decided to wait until the ball was in full swing, when everyone would be occupied, to make his escape.
He should be halfway back to Rose Cottage by now and instead he was only a few feet from Hawthorn House. He’d left, walked out the door, but something was pulling him back.
Not something. Someone. Cecilia. The woman he’d told a few hours earlier that he couldn’t be with her. That he couldn’t give her what she wanted. That he couldn’t make her happy.
It was the truth. He was convinced she needed a man who could be her social equal. Who could escort her to balls and dinner parties, ride out on the hunt with her. He wasn’t that man. For the past year he’d shut himself away from the world, he wasn’t ready for the scrutiny of being married to the richest woman in England. She needed a man with a purpose, a man who knew what he was doing with his life, who contributed to the world.
And yet...here he was. Still standing in the freezing snow outside Hawthorn House. Unable to walk away.
‘You’re a fool, Crawley,’ he muttered to himself. Although whether he was a fool for staying or a fool for ever letting Cecilia go in the first place he wasn’t sure.
For a moment he closed his eyes. Let the memories of the last year wash over him, the loneliness, the self-imposed exile from the world. His penance for surviving when so many others hadn’t. The rehabilitation from his injury, the sympathetic looks and well-meaning enquiries to his health, all that had made him feel less of a man. That had made him retreat into his own little sanctuary.
‘Enough,’ he murmured. It was time to take his place in the world once again. He was going to stop hiding away, stop moping for the life he’d lost. Tomorrow he would make a start on cracking the codes Theodore Long had sent him and take his old friend up on the offer of work to serve his country even though he was no longer fit for the army. And, most importantly, he was going to do all of it with the woman he loved by his side.
With his head bent against the fresh snow that was falling he made his way back to the house.
Although the ball had begun an hour ago the carriages carrying the guests who were not in residence were still pulling up, travelling slowly to stay safe in the snow on the ground and in the air. Inside he could hear laughter and merriment and, as he worked his way through the people on the threshold, he felt the warmth of the house hitting him.
Glancing around, he didn’t immediately see Cecilia. He kept his head bent, trying to avoid being pulled into conversation with any of the guests, and moved from room to room, all the time his eyes searching for the woman he hoped would give him another chance.
‘Major Crawley,’ a voice called out and Joe stiffened. It was Rebecca, of course it was. She was weaving her way towards him and the eyes of the other guests were surreptitiously fixed on them.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said as she reached his side. ‘I’ve somewhere else to be.’
He’d spotted Cecilia. She was out on the terrace, a shawl around her shoulders and her back turned to the drawing room full of people. Even though he couldn’t see her face he felt the breath being sucked out of his body. She looked stunning. She was wearing a dress made of red silk that pinched in at the waist and flowed out into a vast skirt that harked back to the fashions of thirty years ago. The neckline was designed to draw the eye, plunging down further than was the norm, and the sleeves worn off the shoulders.
As if sensing him Cecilia turned and he saw the moment that she noticed him. One gloved hand came up to rest on her chest, just below the perfectly cut diamond that rested at the base of her throat.
‘Cecilia,’ he said, opening the doors to the terrace and slipping outside.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve been a fool.’
He saw the hope flare in her eyes at his words and felt regret at the caution that followed. She was having to guard her heart because he’d pushed her away.
‘I wasn’t ready for you to come into my life,’ he said, moving towards her and taking her hand in his. It didn’t matter to him that they were in full view of the drawing room and the dozens of guests, he didn’t care who saw him bare his heart, if only Cecilia would forgive him. ‘I wasn’t ready to be pulled back into the real world.’
Cecilia looked up at him, pulling her shawl closer over her shoulders, whether to guard off the cold or to ward off possible disappointment he didn’t know.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I know it’s madness, I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I love you.’
‘But earlier...’ she said.
‘Earlier I was a coward. I was too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted, I thought you deserved more than a man who has shut himself away this past year. I thought you deserved someone whole, someone with purpose and with a perfect life to offer you.’
She shook her head, her body swaying closer to his.
‘I started to walk back to Rose Cottage, but I couldn’t leave you behind. I knew I’d made the worst mistake of my life. Can you forgive me?’
‘You want to be with me?’ she asked as if she couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.
‘I want to be with you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.’
‘Do you mean...?’
‘Marry me, Cecilia. I love you and I can’t live without you. I know it’s too soon, I know we’ve barely spent any time together, but I love you.’
She threw herself into his arms, oblivious to their audience on the other side of the drawing-room doors. Joe found himself smiling as her body pressed against his—it was as if they were made for one another.
Cecilia tilted her chin up and almost imperceptibly nodded her head. He kissed her, brushing his lips against hers as she melted into his arms.
‘Is that a yes?’ he murmured after a minute.
‘It’s a yes.’