Page 45 of A Rogue to Cherish

As he held her, Grant motioned for the driver to leave.

Several people walking by slowed and watched with interest as he lowered Wren to the ground. She’d yet to meet his gaze.

“Is that a yes?” Grant asked in a low tone. “Will you be my wife?”

“I think so,” Wren whispered, nodding. She didn’t look at him, but stared at his chest. “There is a matter we must speak about…”

“Wren, look at me.” Grant lifted her face to his with gentle fingers. “I do love you.”

Just then, the sound of an approaching carriage met his ears and Grant realized they stood in the middle of the road. He took Wren’s arm, reached for his horse’s reins, and guided both to the side of the roadway.

A pair of women who’d stopped to watch them pretended interest in each other and moved just a few feet away, still within listening distance.

“I love you too,” Wren finally said. “However, I can’t fathom marrying you. You and I…”

“There aren’t any obstacles we cannot overcome if we face them together,” Grant said, repeating Felicity’s words. “Do you agree that there really aren’t any that are too great?”

“I suppose,” Wren finally admitted, her lips curving into a shy, pleased smile.

“Then is that a ‘yes’?” he prompted, heart thundering in his chest. Never before had he wished for something more than to hear her say that yes.

Once again, she bit her bottom lip. Finally, releasing the moist morsel, she nodded. “Yes. I cannot believe I am saying it. But yes, I will marry you.”

He fought the urge to pull her close as there were people about. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips. “You make me a very happy man.”

She turned to look toward the road. The delivery driver hadn’t stayed to watch their interaction. “How am I going to get home now?”

“Walk with me,” Grant said. “We have much to discuss.” They walked for a few moments in silence, both of them thinking of what was to come. But then he realized where they were, and the solution seemed simple. “Would you like some tea?”

The tea shop had recently been gutted and redecorated. The new interior was decorated in shades of green and lavender. On each table, fresh flowers combined with the aroma of baking fruit tarts invited customers to linger.

Grant found a table near the window so they could look outside while enjoying their repast. Although there were a few curious glances, no one seemed to find their appearance interesting enough to take more note of in spite of Wren’s protests about their differences. But he didn’t choose to point this out to her; their differences weren’t as great as their similarities. And they’d be even less once they were married.

His heart soared and he felt lighter than he had in a long time—maybe more so than ever.

Tea was brought as well as a tart for each of them. Wren’s hands fidgeted with the hem of her shawl, so he poured.

“Are you nervous?” Grant asked gently.

“A bit, yes,” she glanced at him. “I am not sure how to absorb that this is real. That you wish for us to marry.”

“We both wish it. Not just me.” Grant wanted to form the response as a question, but in the end made it a statement. “I do not want to influence you. If you do not wish it, then I must accept your decision. Although I fear you may lose a few more employments because I would pursue you endlessly.”

When she giggled, his heart lightened. Her eyes were playful when meeting his. “I do wish to marry you more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Good.” Grant waited for her to drink the tea. “When can I speak to your aunt?”

“I suppose as soon as possible. Expect many questions from her.” Wren’s warning was not unexpected. He would have to answer questions from his own parents as well.

“Today then.” He nodded at a couple passing by their table whom he recognized. They slowed to a stop, both looking from him to Wren.

Grant stood and acknowledged them. “Anthony and Beatrice MacTavish, this is my fiancée, Wren Owen.” It was the first time he’d introduced her to anyone as his fiancée or otherwise, and it felt wonderful. Until he saw the woman’s expression turn to shock.

She studied Wren for a moment and then attempted but failed at a smile. “Congratulations.”

Anthony, who he’d known socially, was less rigid. “You’ve finally been tamed. Wily fox.” He shook Grant’s hand and slapped him on his opposite arm.

“Nice to make your acquaintance,” Wren said, her expression calm.