Page 105 of A Perfect Gentleman

“It’s not your fault.” She smiled at him, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Yes. It is. Ultimately it is all laid at my door. I’ve made a thousand mistakes. More. From the very beginning I was blind and stubborn and so wrapped up in my bitterness, I didn’t even look at you. I assumed a great deal without having any real knowledge. I didn’t give you—I didn’t give us a chance. Worse, I was unfair and unkind to you.”

“That’s all long ago. You aren’t the only one who made mistakes. My pride was hurt, and I ran away. I could have stayed and explained it to you. And before that, I could have discovered what my father was doing; I think I probably didn’t want to know. Because I was getting what I wanted. It was selfish of me. I wanted to marry you so much.”

“Why?”

Abby chuckled at his astounded tone. “Because the moment I saw you, I wanted you. You were handsome; you were the perfect gentleman. You may not be aware of it, but when you smile, you take a person’s breath away. I suspect a large number of girls would have been thrilled to marry you. I know I was. I’m not entirely sure I would have turned you down even if I had known then that you loved another.”

“Abby . . .” He did not look at her for a long moment, frowning down at their linked hands. Just when she thought he would say nothing more, he raised his head. “I’ve known Laura since we were children. Her mother and mine were good friends, and they visited often until her mother died. Even after that, we saw her when we were in London.”

“Graeme, you don’t need to explain. I understand.” Abby tried to tug her hand away, but Graeme held it fast, his eyes intent on hers.

“No, you don’t. I didn’t understand. I did love Laura, but it wasn’t the way I love you.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat, but she did her best not to show any reaction, afraid she might stop the flow of his words.

“What I felt for Laura was nice—a quiet thing, a natural progression, I suppose, from the friendship we had always had. I still care for her, but I think it is the way I would feel about a sister. I’ve never had one; perhaps if I had, I would have recognized it for what it was. It was nothing compared to the way I love you. The passion and fire and depth . . . Oh, the devil, I’m not good at explaining how I feel.”

“I think you’re doing a stellar job of it. Go on.”

“This afternoon, I realized that if I were faced now with having to give you up as I did Laura, I wouldn’t do it. No matter what the consequences—scandal, penury, whatever came—I would never have set you aside. It would have been like tearing out my own heart.”

“Oh, Graeme!” Abby clapped both hands over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

“No, please, don’t cry. I realize you probably don’t feel the same. But I’m going to do everything I can to change that. I will woo you and win you—you know I am stubborn enough to keep at it and too proud to admit defeat. If we were not already married, I would ask you on bended knee. But as it is, I can only say I want to be with you, to have a real marriage.”

“You idiot!” Abby flung her arms around his neck, belying her words. “Of course I love you. I fell in love with you ten years ago, and when I returned a few months ago, I did it all over again.”

Graeme surged to his feet, taking her with him, and locked his mouth on hers. When at last he lifted his head, he smiled down into her face, saying, “Then you bartered with me for more than a child?”

“I told myself I would be content with a child, but that was a lie.” Abby linked her hands behind his neck. “The truth is, I want it all—marriage, children . . . and most of all you.”

“Then, my love, I would say we have a bargain.”

“Indeed we do.” Abby grinned up at him saucily. “How should we seal it, do you think?”

Graeme swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. “I’ll show you.”

epilogue

Six months later

Graeme strode from desk to window to fireplace, unable to keep still. “It’s taking far too long, don’t you think? There must be something wrong.”

His cousin, sitting in the comfortable chair before the fire, long legs stretched out to warm his toes, opened an eye and regarded him. “As I said the last three times you asked, I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve had no more infants than you.”

“Clearly not. This is where you’re supposed to tell me I’ve nothing to worry about and that it’s all going as it should.”

James rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you sit down? You’re making me dizzy.”

Graeme released a long-suffering sigh and threw himself down into the chair across from James.

He immediately popped up again as his mother sailed into the room, beaming. “Is it over?” He hurried toward her. “Is Abby—”

“Mother and daughter are fine.”

Graeme stopped, feeling suddenly a little light-headed. “Daughter? It’s a girl?”