At twenty-three years of age, she had thus far avoided marriage owing largely to the scandal of her mother’s affair and the subsequent divorce of her parents. While a few men had pursued her during the past two years, she’d found it easier to remain within the circle of her trusted friends rather than venture into society.
But she could not hide much longer. Not if her eldest brother had anything to say about it. Not if James was leaving again. She tightened her grip on the shawl and took a breath.
“Speaking of marriage,” she said, “did you know that Alexander, the big loon, indicated to Lord Fulton that I would be amenable to a marriage proposal?”
She expected James to react with horror—Fulton, after all, was a man twice her age and as rotund as a hogshead. Though Talia had told her brother in no uncertain terms that she would never marry Fulton, she hadn’t confessed that she would never marry anyone except James Forester.
Since girlhood, she had known James would one day be her husband. He just needed her to finally tell him that, since he was clearly too thickheaded to figure it out on his own.
“Fulton, eh?” James frowned, a flash of darkness on his handsome face. “Pity North couldn’t set his sights higher on your behalf.”
“It isn’t his decision, in any case.” Talia set her cup down with a restless movement and walked to the hearth. Her stomach rolled with anxiety as she turned back to face him. “And I’ve set my own sights for marriage much higher.”
“Have you now, poppet?”
“Yes.” She twisted the fringe of her shawl. “My decision is what matters.”
“Indeed.” James reached for the plate of tea cakes yet again.
For heaven’s sake. If she were a tart, he would fall to one knee and declare his undying love.
Talia glanced at the clock. Now. She had to do this now.
“James.”
“Hmm?”
“I…I’ve a confession to make.” She gripped her shawl close to her throat. The heat of the fire filled the air around her. A bead of perspiration rolled down her spine.
“What sort of confession?” James peered at a slice of fruitcake, then exchanged it for a muffin.
“You already know a great deal about me, considering we’ve been friends since childhood.” Talia wiped her brow with the back of her hand. The sound of her heartbeat filled her head. “But there is…there is one thing you do not know about me. One thing you haven’t yet discovered.”
“What might that be, poppet?” James bit into the muffin and glanced at her.
Now.
Talia released her shawl and let it fall to the floor behind her. Hot air cascaded across her already-flushed skin.
“I want to marry you,” she said.
The muffin dropped to the carpet. For one awful moment James just stared at her. All the blood rushed from Talia’s head as she waited with heart-stopping fear for his response.
Then it happened. His eyes flickered to the creamy swell of her bosom. And lingered.
A surge of triumph filled Talia. She steeled her shaky courage and pressed forward with the speech she had rehearsed.
“I couldn’t a-allow you to leave yet again without knowing the truth of my…my feelings for you,” she stammered. “I love you, James. I’ve loved you since I was a girl, back when we used to climb trees and play hoops and ride horses. I loved you when you went off to university, and every time you set forth on one expedition or another. I’ve waited for your letters, longed for your return, and…and when I heard you were leaving again, I knew I had to tell you the truth. By rights I ought to have married already, but I’ve never…never wanted to marry anyone except you. Because I love you.”
He managed to pull his gaze from her bosom and look at her. Shock rather than desire filled his eyes.
Talia grasped the mantel with one hand and tried to pull air into her tight lungs. “I know this is sudden, that you’ve always looked upon me as a friend, but I—”
“Talia.”
The strangled tone in his voice caused a resurgence of fear. Her fingers tightened on the mantel. Words crowded in her throat.
James pushed to his feet and approached her, his boots soundless on the thick carpet. For an instant, Talia dared to believe her long-held dreams would come true, that he would gather her in his arms, confess to his mutual love, and then press his mouth to hers...