Lover Be Mine A Legendary Lovers Novel - By Nicole Jordan Page 0,97
Jack a startled look, he expounded. “Prince Raoul arrived in London two days ago. Unselfishly, he has changed his mind about the succession. Although the title is still legally mine, I won’t be claiming his throne after all, or be forced to relocate there either.”
Sophie exhaled slowly. Then moving to Jack’s side, she took his hand and purposefully turned to face her father. “Papa, you may as well relent now. If you won’t permit us to marry, we will simply have to live in sin, and I don’t believe you want that for your only daughter.”
This time Mrs. Pennant’s bark of laughter led to a coughing fit, but she waved off any assistance.
Meanwhile, Jack squeezed Sophie’s hand and bent closer to murmur, “Braving the world’s harsh opinion to follow your heart … You are more like my mother than I realized.”
“I shall take that as a compliment,” Sophie whispered back, before saying out loud, “Pray consider, Papa, I am likely to become a fallen woman just like our former maid, Martha. You don’t want your grandchildren to be born out of wedlock, do you?”
Sophie could see him fighting an inner battle with himself, for his complexion turned ruddy with ire and indignation at the thought of his flesh and blood bearing children on the wrong side of the blanket.
She might have pressed her threat further, but her mother interrupted the discussion calmly. “No, Sophie, love, your father does not want that fate for you or for us. Oliver, dear, we will have to allow the wedding now. You can see that Sophie has made up her mind and that they love one another.”
Rebecca Fortin rarely put her foot down, but when she did, her husband hastened to bend over backward to please her.
When Sophie sent her mother a grateful glance, mouthing the words, “Thank you, Mama,” the elder lady smiled serenely.
“I believe his lordship, Sophie, when he says he only wishes to make you happy. Indeed, your happiness is all we truly want for you. Isn’t that so, my dear?” she asked her husband.
“Yes, of course,” Oliver managed to say gruffly.
“It would look very odd,” Mrs. Fortin added gently, “if you accepted such a generous gift of a baronetcy from her suitor and still refused his request for her hand.”
Oliver swallowed visibly, still struggling to quell his objections. “I suppose you are right. Very well then … my lord, you may marry my daughter.”
Almost afraid to credit her hearing, Sophie felt her knees go weak with relief. “Papa, you won’t regret this.”
Evidently Jack wanted to cement the decision before Mr. Fortin could change his mind. “If I may have a moment of privacy with your daughter, sir, I should like to make her a formal proposal. The first time I asked her, she refused my offer until you approved.”
Her father looked surprised and gratified to hear that she had been the dutiful and loving daughter he had always known. “Yes, very well, you may propose, but—”
Before Oliver could finish his sentence, Sophie was pulling Jack toward the parlor door, past her Aunt Eunice, whose eyes were damp with amusement.
Preceding Jack from the room, Sophie said not a word until after she’d led him into the library and shut the door firmly behind them. If she’d been less desperate for his touch, she could have waited, but her profound sense of relief and gratitude propelled her into his arms to kiss him ardently.
It was a long, long moment before they broke off, both gasping and breathing laughter.
“Such impatience,” Jack murmured, his voice an affectionate tease as he gazed down at her.
“Can you blame me? It has been an eternity since I last saw you.”
His arms had remained around her waist, but when Sophie would have kissed him again, Jack held her off. “No, I want to do this properly, sweetheart. Permit me ask you again … will you consent to be my wife, dearest beloved Sophie?”
“Yes, yes, yes—of course I consent.”
His laughter was infused with tenderness. “I am flattered by your enthusiasm, darling. And vastly relieved.”
“So am I. I thought you had given up, but you actually found a way to settle the feud. You truly do love me after all,” she marveled.
“Certainly I love you. I tumbled headlong for you the moment I met you at your aunt’s masquerade ball. It just took me a little time to admit it. Even my father recognized the depth of my feelings before I did.”