Page 91 of Unmasking the Earl

Unbelievable!

The rogue carried her up the steps and in through the open French doors of the ballroom. Everyone gaped at them as he strode to the center of the dance floor. Without their masks, Ned and Cassie were easily recognizable, so there was no hope of hiding.

The ability to faint at will would have been helpful right now, but she was wound up like a clock, and even if he set her on her feet there was no way she could have swooned convincingly.

She was also—and it was terrible to admit it—singularly aroused by Ned’s indomitable strength and sense of purpose. But what that purpose was, she hadn’t a clue.

He came to a halt. Her head still hung down toward the parquet floor, her face thankfully obscured by her cascading hair. Her heart thundered.

And she knew that nothing that ever happened to her for the rest of her life would ever be as humiliating as this very moment.

Chapter Forty

Ned stood in the middle of the ballroom with the woman he planned to marry draped over his shoulder, feeling like some ancient Scottish ancestor of his, carrying off a maiden from a rival clan.

Much as ripples spread out from a stone thrown into a pond, the dancers gradually stilled, then the conversations at the edges of the ballroom hushed, and when the ripple reached the orchestra, they, too, fell silent.

Feeling ludicrously self-conscious and already singularly regretting his impulsive act, Ned lowered Cassie gently to the ground, then knelt before her.

An astonished murmur ran through the crowd, and he became aware of disturbances as individuals began to push their way through. He’d better get this over with quickly before Paxton had him thrown out on his ear.

“Miss Cassandra Blythe,” he said, in a voice loud enough to carry right up to the twinkling chandeliers, “for the third and final time, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

There were a few shocked gasps and exclamations from the onlookers. Then the room fell so quiet it was impossible to believe it held a good three hundred people. Heads were bobbing up at the back as everyone struggled to get a better view.

Ned looked up into Cassandra’s face and waited, hardly daring to breathe. If she refused him now, he didn’t know how he would bear it.

She pushed her tangled hair back from her face, smoothed down her skirts, and put her hands on either side of her slender waist. Then she took a deep breath, and he bent his head, fearing the storm of recriminations that was sure to erupt.

“Ned Talbot,” she said, each word like a bullet to his heart. “You are the rudest, most infuriating, pig-headed man I have ever come across.”

There was a movement in the crowd, and Ned looked up to see two familiar gentlemen step forward. Wycherley and Carnforth. One of them was pushing a Bath chair containing a very angry-looking elderly gentleman.

Damn it all to hell.

If he had to fight them over this, they would all be thrown out. Except the older gentleman, of course, who must be Cassie’s father.

Cassie’s hazel eyes softened, and the corner of her mouth quirked up then quivered. Was she laughing? No, she was crying.

Both?

“Forgive me,” he said, in a voice meant for her only to hear. Please God, she didn’t mean to refuse him again?

His heart felt like lead in his chest, his limbs so heavy he could barely hold himself up. It was an agony to look at her, so he bent his head again, waiting for the ax to fall and destroy his hopes of happiness forever.

“But I don’t think you’re entirely beyond redemption,” Cassie continued with a hint of laughter in her voice. “So, the answer is yes, Edmund Talbot, and yes, and yes again. Now kiss me, damn you, before I change my mind!”

He leaped to his feet. Oh thank God. He threw his arms about her, clasped her to his heart, and brushed his face against hers, eyes tight shut, wanting to see nothing that would distract him from the joy of having her in his arms once more.

For good, this time.

The people around them came back to life, shuffling their feet, the ladies fluttering their fans and the gentlemen whispering to one another. But the music did not start up again, and nobody moved forward, no doubt in case the scene had not yet played itself out.

It hadn’t.

Ned released Cassie and looked into her upturned face. She reminded him of a flower, newly opened to receive the warmth of the sun, fresh and full of life. Her eyes were focused on his mouth, her lips slightly parted, and he knew exactly what she wanted. But that would only make the scandal complete.

As if it weren’t already.

“There’s something I want to hear from those beautiful lips of yours,” he said. He drilled his gaze into hers, willing her to understand, begging her to say the words he so needed to hear.

Her face shone with joy as she said, “I love you, Ned. With all my heart.”

The room erupted into hefty sighs and loud hurrahs from the men, giggles and tears from the ladies, and, louder than everything else, the thunder of riotous applause.

Oblivious to the commotion, Ned threw propriety out the window, bent his head, and kissed Cassie full on the lips, enfolding her tightly against his chest.

And as they clung to each other, he thanked heaven and the earth that had made her for giving him the most perfect gift of all.

Miss Cassandra Blythe, who had shown him the beautiful, awe-inspiring power of love.