Page 89 of To Hunt the Hunter

“Oh, dear,” Matilda said, meeting his eyes.

Lucian could only grin at her as he took her hands, holding on tight. He felt it was an expression that would not leave his face for some considerable time.

“I love you,” he said, wishing they were alone, wishing he could take her in his arms and kiss her, never let her go.

“I love you too,” she replied, though she looked bewildered. “Oh, but Lucian, are you sure? Your name, the title—”

Lucian shook his head.

“My son,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “I won’t condemn my son to the life I have led, the life my father expected of Philip. I would have him be happy, be loved. I would know how that feels too, Matilda. For always.”

She made a choked sound, tears spilling over, and Lucian felt his heart squeezed with happiness. He made a gesture to the orchestra, instructing them to play.

“Might I have the pleasure of this dance, love?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing and crying at once now, as he led her onto the floor. She wiped her eyes with a gloved hand, trying to compose herself. “Oh, my word, Lucian. Everyone is staring at us. They think you’ve run mad.”

He shrugged and took her in his arms. “There is nothing new there, my love, and I don’t give a damn. You and Phoebe are all I care about. The rest of the world can go to the devil.”

The music swelled and he pulled her close, too close for propriety, gazing down at this extraordinary woman, knowing that all the world could see what he felt, could see how hard he had fallen, and not caring if they did. He had spent his entire life hiding his emotions, keeping himself apart, but not in this moment. He would not hide this, for it was too vast to be contained, and it burned too fiercely to be hidden under layers of ice.

“I could not bear the pain, love,” he said, wishing he could take her away with him now, this instant. “I have missed you so dreadfully. I did not know what to do with myself.”

“Me either,” she said, gazing up at him. “I was so furious with you for leaving me as you did.”

He nodded, his heart aching for the hurt he had inflicted. “I’m so sorry. I was too afraid to stay. I knew I could not tell you goodbye, so I ran. But I have come back again, Matilda, and I shall never leave you again. You are all I want, only you, and I shall do everything in my power to make you happy.”

“You have,” she said, laughing, the joyous sound of it making his heart light. “And I know you always will.”

***

The music ended but Lucian did not let go of her. He just stood, gazing down at her, such an expression in his eyes that she could not look away.

“The dance has ended,” she whispered, but he shook his head.

“It’s only just begun.”

She laughed again, giddy and bubbling over with happiness.

“If this is a dream, don’t let me wake up.”

“Never,” he promised. “We’ll dream it together.”

Together. They would be together. He’d asked her to marry him, in front of everyone! Suddenly they were surrounded by her friends, and there was a babble of noise, laughter, and happy tears as she was hugged and embraced, and Lucian’s hand was shaken. Matilda choked back a laugh as Gabriel Knight slapped Lucian on the back, and Lucian slid her a glance, amused by the friendly, masculine gesture. He would have to get used to such things as friends now. The thought made her heart light. She would make him happy. She would fill that vast palace with the sound of laughter, with their children and their friends, and the sounds of a life lived to the full.

Lucian reached for her, taking her hand and holding it tight, as if he feared she might yet escape him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Constance Rivenhall and her mother stalking from the ballroom in disgust. She ought to feel sympathy perhaps, but… not tonight.

“Oh, Tilda!”

Matilda staggered, forced to let Lucian’s hand go as Bonnie hugged her fiercely, almost toppling them both to the floor.

“That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Bonnie proclaimed at the top of her lungs, pressing a hand to her heart in dramatic fashion as their friends laughed, and all the old tabbies tutted and shook their heads.

“Oh, I say, love,” Jerome protested. “Steady on. I’m dreadfully romantic, too.”

Bonnie snorted. “Yes, of course you are,” she said, her voice soothing. “But still… Montagu of all people, down on one knee. Oh, my word, I nearly swooned.”

“Me too,” Kitty sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, Matilda, people will talk of this for decades. What a conquest, and the look in his eyes…! My word, he adores you.”