The first thing she noticed was the fire blazing in the hearth. Surely it was folly to have left it as such if everyone had planned to be away for the evening.
But then, as her eyes adjusted she noticed that it had been decorated for Christmas. Every available surface was covered in boughs of holly and ivy, with cheerful red candles dotted everywhere.
It was beautiful, and she turned to tell him as much.
Where was he? He had disappeared! Mariah frowned in confusion before her eyes travelled down and she gasped. He hadn't disappeared, merely knelt. He was on one knee before her.
"Brandon, what—"
"Mariah Bolton. I realise that since I have met you, I have been the most idiotic, ill-mannered brute that you'd likely ever met. I let you see the absolute worst of me. I have told you my darkest secrets, bared the blackest part of my soul. I do not deserve you and I likely never will. I don't deserve your loving heart, your generosity of spirit, your pure and innocent soul. But none of that stops me from wanting them. Perhaps it's selfish. Perhaps it's just madness. But the truth is that you stole my heart, a heart that I didn't even know could beat any longer. You stole it the day you patted me on the head, and I haven't wanted it back since. It's yours, battered and bruised as it is."
Mariah couldn't speak, couldn't believe what was right before her eyes. She shook her head in wonder, the tears flowing freely from her eyes.
She watched as a look of pure, raw pain sprang into his eyes, before they turned almost black with a sudden determination.
"You shake your head," he said misconstruing what she meant, but before she could speak he had leapt to his feet and clasped her by the shoulders, "I do not blame you. Lord knows I have given you no reason to trust me, to love me. But I love you, Mariah. So much I can barely stand it. And I know I've handled things badly but please understand, it took me by surprise, and when my mother was asking me those things I – I was trying to protect you, dammit." Suddenly, he was yelling at her and it was so familiar that she almost laughed. "I know you deserve better than me. I tried to tell her as much. That's why I denied my feelings for you, why I refused to consider marriage. Because I wasn't ready for how I felt and I didn't want you to have to spend your days with someone as dark as I."
He stopped shouting and his tone lowered, become gentler and more tender than she had ever heard it.
"But that hasn't stopped me from loving you until I can't breathe. I don't expect you to love me back, but if you'll let me, I will spend every day for the rest of my life loving you so much you won't ever have to. Please, please, my darling, say you'll be my wife."
As he drew to a halt, his breathing laboured as though he had run for miles, Mariah finally had the chance to speak.
"Brandon, do — do you mean it?" She took a tentative step closer to him, hardly daring to believe this was real. "Do you really want to marry me?"
"Of course I do," he said fiercely. "I adore you. But, it is selfish of me to ask. To tie yourself to such a man, to such a family. If people knew what happened, what Lottie was."
"What is she? Only a well-loved and beautiful niece and granddaughter! And I would never allow anyone to say anything different."
"I know you wouldn't, my little tigress. That's one of the things I love the most about you."
He pulled her close and she went willingly.
"Please," he whispered, "please put me out of my misery. Please be my wife."
Mariah gazed up at him, hoping he could see what she felt for him in her tear-washed eyes.
"I will. Of course I will. I love you so much, Brandon. So very much."
The look of joy on his face was one she would never forget.
She was sure she heard him mutter "thank God" before his lips found hers and she was utterly, completely lost.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
"Merry Christmas, Lottie" Mariah bent to hand the child a giant parcel containing a much sought-after doll's house and doll. She couldn't wait to see her reaction.
Standing back up, she pressed a hand to her abdomen. These blasted pains were becoming worse and they didn't seem to be disappearing as quickly.
Brandon was at her side, quick as an arrow.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he demanded.
Mariah smiled and shook her head. "I told you five minutes ago, darling. I am fine. Truly. Now, come walk me to my library. I have your gift there."
Mrs. Haverton, or Mother as she insisted Mariah called her, assured them that Lottie would be fine with her and they made their way to the library, Brandon holding her round the waist as though she were made of glass.
"Brandon, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm pregnant, not sick."
"Just indulge me, sweetheart, please" he said, bending to kiss her softly on the top of her head.