They dashed out of the shop, hand-in-hand. Violet had meant to lead him round the corner, so they could duck down one of the village’s smaller, darkened streets. But she spied torchlight coming from the lane.
“This way.” Changing course mid-step, she led him on a mad dash across the lane, onto the village green. They darted from tree to tree. Behind them, curious Spindle Cove denizens shrugged into outerwear and took to the streets. Violet prayed their attention would be drawn to the shop, and not to a pair of shadow-cloaked lovers charging toward St. Ursula’s.
“Here.” She pulled him into the alcove of the gothic cathedral’s side door. “We’ll wait here until it’s safe to continue.”
From behind a stone column, she peered across the green. She saw Aaron Dawes and Rufus in their militia uniforms. She hated that poor Rufus would find his father that way—but from what she knew of the Bright family history, it wouldn’t be the first time. Villagers trickled out from their homes, to see what had caused the commotion.
“Once everyone’s attention is focused on the All Things,” she said, “we’ll make a run for it.”
She glanced toward Christian and found him gazing at her.
“My God, Violet. Look at you. You’re remarkable.”
Her cheeks warmed with a blush. After all this time, it was nice to be noticed.
He took her by the shoulders and swiveled her to face him. “By now, you must know how sorry I am, and how much I care. I want to make it up to you, and I will. If only you’ll wait. Can you find it your heart to do that much?”
“Christian…even as a girl, I found it in my heart to wait. I waited all those years you never noticed me. And that was when you were an undeserving, callow youth. We’re grown now, and both much improved in character this past year, I daresay. I can find it in my heart to do a great deal more than wait. I can find it in my heart to lie for you, steal for you, take your secrets to my grave. I was…” Her voice failed her for a moment. “I was willing to kill for you just now.”
He rubbed her arms and swore. “I hate that I put you in such a position.”
“You misunderstand. I’m not asking you take pity on me. I’m saying, trust in me. Ask more of me.” She took his hand and pressed it to her chest. “This heart can do more than wait. This heart could love you so strongly, so fiercely—you’d feel the force of it all the way in Brittany. Or in Bali, for that matter. But you must give me something more than vague notions of a future courtship. My parents are determined to see me married. Your own sister has appointed herself my matchmaker. Am I supposed to resist them all, for heaven knows how long, simply on the promise of a few apricot ices in the park and a night or two at Vauxhall?”
“There’s nothing else I can offer you,” he said. “Unless I abandon my assignment, end my career, and heap shame on my entire family. I just can’t do that to them, Violet. Not after everything else.”
“I wouldn’t ask that. I don’t want to ask you for anything, can’t you understand? There’s a question I’m wanting to be asked.”
His expression changed. “Oh.”
“A rather important question.”
He blinked. “I see.”
Did he? If he’d caught the hint, he showed no intention to act on it. Perhaps he wasn’t prepared to go that far. But now that she’d said this much, Violet simply couldn’t back down.
“I’ve spent so much of my life in the corners. Watching you live life to the fullest and patiently hoping to catch your attention someday. I can’t keep waiting like that anymore.” His gaze fell, and she dipped her head to catch it. “Everything would be different, if… If I weren’t waiting on a someday fantasy, but acting true to my betrothed.”
His arms tightened, binding her to his chest. “Violet. I hadn’t even dared to dream you might accept me this soon. You deserve a great more groveling and atonement first. But if you’re sure you want this here, now…”
She nodded. Actually, she’d wanted it in London, a year ago. But here and now would suffice. “Yes. I do.”
A bewildered, ecstatic smile lit his face. He had it quickly mastered, shoved back under the manful composure. But not before she’d seen that flash of emotion. It was like a blink of pure joy. She loved that she’d caused it.
She loved him.
“One moment.” He stepped back. He pulled on the lapels of his coat to straighten it, then pushed both hands through his hair to calm the ruffled waves. She loved him for the small endearing gesture of vanity. Even with the wild hair, coarse attire, and the twice-broken nose, he was the still the most handsome man she’d ever known.
He turned back to face her and took her hands in his. “Violet. Dear, sweet Violet.”
Her heart leapt. Even though she knew full well it was coming, her heart insisted on that joyful bounce. At last, it beat. At last, at last.
“Violet, I…” He stopped, frowning.
Now her heart pinched. No, don’t stop. Why are you stopping?