looked to Nick, eyebrows drawn together, hands clenched in her skirts. Giving him a slow nod, she waited for him to go on.
The attention was back on him now, and he could feel their glee, their scandalized excitement at such entertainment. Viscount Barrington had come to his feet, though he was watching his daughter rather than him, seeming to wonder—just like everyone else—what she intended to do about this.
“I know that you are afraid. I am nothing like the man you once imagined yourself marrying or loving. I am not the best of men, and I may not even be a good one, but you have made me want to be. No one has ever inspired me as you have or made me believe that I could be redeemed. That is what you have done to me. You’ve made me believe in the impossible—so why should I not believe that despite the odds, or all the evidence to the contrary, you and I belong together?”
“That’s enough,” Lewes barked, taking hold of Calliope’s arm. “You’ve said your piece, and now you will leave.”
Calliope remained frozen in place, even as Lewes tried to turn her away, even as the eyes of the ton rested on her—waiting for her to either cut him in front of them all, or further stun them by capitulating.
“No,” Nick declared, taking another step and another, Calliope’s stare drawing him in. “No, I won’t leave until you tell me to. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me, that you cannot find it in yourself to forgive me for not being a better man in anticipation of someday finding you, or for the horrible things I said the last time I saw you. I meant none of it, and I’d never hurt you that way again. Please, I’m begging you!”
A heavy hand clapped on his shoulder and he was pushed backward. He turned to find that Lewes’s younger brother had left his pew. Though larger than his brother, he was not as intimidating as he assumed as he gave Nick another shove
“You heard my brother. Leave this place, or I’ll—”
“Lay a hand on him again, and I will break that hand,” growled a voice from Nick’s back.
It was Benedict, who had just arrived and now came to stand beside him. His eyes were like glaciers as he stared the younger Lewes brother down. The other man gulped, shaking from head to toe as he shrank back into his pew.
Benedict stepped back then, shoulders squared and expression menacing enough to keep anyone else from approaching. Nick turned back to Calliope, his head spinning and his heart in this throat … and waited for her to seal his fate.
“Dominick.”
It was the only word she could manage—the first one that had come to mind as she’d grappled for something to say, anything that would convey how she felt. She wanted him to know how relieved she was to see him, how hopeless she had felt thinking she’d lost him for good, how joy overflowed in her as she realized he could still be hers. But, only if she were bold enough and brave enough to reach out and take him.
As it turned out, it had been the right thing to say, for in the sound of his name on her lips he seemed to hear it all. He smiled, his eyes glistening like spring leaves coated in morning dew.
“I love you,” he said, his words sending another wave of awed murmurs through those seated in the pews. “God knows I’ve tried to stop, but it cannot be helped. I love you with every fiber of my being, with every breath, every beat of my heart. Please, my Anni … come with me. Marry me. Love me.”
She released her next breath on a sob, her vision momentarily blinded by tears. They cleared when she blinked, rolling down her cheeks. All around him sat the people who would judge her and whisper behind her back. In time they might forget about this day, as new scandals came to light and overshadowed her own. They would accept her among them again, though she’d always be the runaway bride who had left one man at the altar for another.
But, as they all faded away in the face of Nick, extending one hand as if acting on faith that she would come to him, she couldn’t help but laugh. The sound startled Martin, who was still holding her arm, watching this exchange