Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2), Maggi Andersen [best short novels of all time TXT] 📗

almost crushed me. Will you promise to spend your life with me?” He drew back and grazed his knuckles gently along her cheek. “You are my life. I need you as much as breathing.”

She reached up and smoothed his hair with her hand, her eyes telling him what he wished to know. “Oh, Nicholas, I love you so.”

He drew her close, his face against her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers, he gently kissed the warm skin beneath her ear, slid his lips across her soft cheek, kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. Then he took her mouth in a long, passionate kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, her body cleaved against his.

Carrie reached up to touch his cheek. “You are real. This isn’t a dream.”

“No, my love.” Nicholas kissed her again. He held her sweet chin in his palm and ran a thumb over her full bottom lip. “Will you marry me?”

Another couple ventured out to brave the weather.

Carrie threw her arms around his neck. “Oh yes, Nicholas, yes!”

“Shall we tell my sister?”

“I’m sure Gwen will approve. She is no longer my chaperone. I have continually disappointed her.”

“Nonsense, she’s loved every minute. Have you spoken to Ludlow?”

“Yes. I told him I couldn’t marry him. He was unhappy, but I don’t think really surprised.”

“Perhaps not.” Nicholas had torn his presumptuous letter up.

“He’ll meet someone else. Someone who loves him.”

“Yes, darling, and that’s the last time we shall mention him.” He pulled her against him and kissed her again. His arm at her waist, they turned back to the door. He saw they were in imminent danger of a soaking as the rain grew heavier. Puddles formed over the terrace floor. “You’ll wet your slippers.” Nicholas swept Carrie up into his arms and made for the French doors.

A loud sigh came from farther along the terrace, where the woman and her companion sheltered from the rain.

Inside the ballroom, guests turned to stare at them. As Nicholas set Carrie on her feet, laughter and applause rippled through the crowd.

Gwen was not in her chair.

“She will return in a moment,” Carrie said, taking a seat beside him. “Tell me about Bella and Jeremy. Have they been enjoying themselves?”

“Yes. Fatigue finally claimed them. They retired to bed without a murmur tonight.”

She laughed. “Where did you take them?”

“The usual places, the museum for the better part of a day. Bella’s favorites were Astley’s Amphitheater with the dancing horses, a puppet show in Green park, and the Tower. Jeremy’s was unquestionably the Tattersall’s horse auction.”

“You are so very good to them.”

A smile teased his lips. “I believe I am. I intend to seek my reward.”

“And what is that?”

“It must wait for here comes my sister and the duchess.”

Gwen and Nellie hurried up to them.

“We heard the laughter,” the duchess said. “You have behaved quite scandalously, Nicholas.” She laughed. “But anything goes at a masked ball, and I am thrilled for you both. I must find Charles. He was lamenting only this morning how long it took you to realize you loved Carrie.”

Nicholas grinned. “Impudent fellow, but undeniably astute.”

When Nellie left them, Gwen wiped away a tear as she kissed them both. “I couldn’t be more pleased. Winston will be, too. I shall write to him tonight. We must have an engagement party.”

“We don’t plan a long engagement,” Nicholas said hastily, envisaging weeks of preparation for the wedding. “I intend to seek a special license. If Carrie agrees.”

A lovely pink flush colored her cheeks. “I do.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “I have a bone to pick with you, Gwen.”

Gwen looked the picture of innocence. “Oh?”

“What were you thinking of permitting Barraclough to waltz with Carrie?”

Gwen shrugged while looking a trifle guilty. “I didn’t see any harm in it. I would not have allowed him to take it further.”

“You know I planned to surprise Carrie tonight.”

She laughed. “I didn’t expect you to almost come to blows.”

“Not even close,” Nicholas said. “Barraclough considers himself a lover, not a fighter.”

A gentleman appeared at the top of the stairs. “The Honorable John Winston,” the majordomo boomed, his words almost lost in the din.

“Winston!” Gwen swung around.

Winston appeared, dressed in black evening clothes which, like Nicholas’s, made him stand out among the brightly arrayed crowd.

Gwen went to meet him. Taking his arm, she brought him over to them. “Miss Caroline Leeming, I would like you to meet my husband. Winston, Carrie is Nicholas’s fiancée.”

“An engagement?” He raised his eyebrows at Nicholas. “I thought it was time I found out just what my wife has been up to,” he said, smiling at Carrie. “You are as lovely as Gwen described.” He turned to shake Nicholas’s hand with a smile of approval. “Congratulations, Nicholas. Smart of you to snap the young lady up before any of these other fellows.”

Nellie and Charles approached.

Charles held Carrie’s hands and raised her from her low curtsey. “Nicholas has told me all about you, Miss Leeming.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Thank heaven he has found good sense at last. I despaired of him.”

When Nicholas raised a mild objection, the duke appraised him. “When you mentioned a heated argument about a poem, I had great hopes.” He smiled at Carrie. “I’ve never known Nicholas so stirred up about poetry.”

Nicholas laughed. “Keats is a clever fellow.”

“Then you agree it is a fine poem?” Carrie asked, her eyes alight.

Nicholas slipped an arm around her waist. “I wouldn’t dare say otherwise, sweetheart.”

***

Carrie felt as if she was walking on air. Nicholas loved her. She’d known it deep down for weeks. She’d tried to fight for him and thought she’d failed. And because she was so cast down, she’d almost settled for second best. She stood, her hand tucked