Victor's heart leapt when she said she had a condition. Her laughter implied she was going to accept, but for one gut-wrenching moment he wondered if she was actually laughing in derision and about to deliver a death blow. When she continued his face broke into a smile — both of relief as well as amusement.
"You'll have to come up with something witty, then," he replied, still grinning. "Though I'll give you some time to consider and let me know what it was you said. Send me a letter tonight after you've had a long bath, maybe — it's always easy to come up with witty retorts in the bath." He wasn't sure he could make any promises about not telling anyone how she looked, because it was still making him want to chuckle, but he also didn't know that anyone else would be particularly interested in hearing him describe his bride's appearance at the moment of the proposal. At any rate, he had no intention of immortalizing the moment in poetry.
It felt good to finally have that aired and agreed to, though he still needed to undergo the process of asking her father before things could be made truly official. Still, his shoulders felt lighter than they had a moment ago, despite the weight added by the rain. He had determined to marry this year, but the truth was he had never expected to like his wife so much as he liked Miss Dempsey. He had set his sights on tolerable and well-bred, but Miss Dempsey was intelligent and animated and positively adorable when she clasped her hands in front of her that way. He'd thought this arrangement through from every angle since making her acquaintance, and could not find a single criteria he might imagine that she did not meet — well, except one, and that he was unsure of and could not gather information on until after the wedding.
Though, now that he considered it — they were stuck under the oak tree together, removed from company and likely sheltered from any oversight from the house by virtue of the curtains of rain between them. He'd proposed and she'd accepted. If ever there was a time to press the bounds of propriety and kiss her, this was it. She was even already standing up against the trunk of the tree, as though she'd planned to give him this sort of opening. Victor's heart rate picked up as he let his eyes trail down around the curve of her chest. Having made his decision, he moved forward in a rush and pressed his lips to hers, far more forcefully than the perfunctory way he'd returned their first kiss.
"You'll have to come up with something witty, then," he replied, still grinning. "Though I'll give you some time to consider and let me know what it was you said. Send me a letter tonight after you've had a long bath, maybe — it's always easy to come up with witty retorts in the bath." He wasn't sure he could make any promises about not telling anyone how she looked, because it was still making him want to chuckle, but he also didn't know that anyone else would be particularly interested in hearing him describe his bride's appearance at the moment of the proposal. At any rate, he had no intention of immortalizing the moment in poetry.
It felt good to finally have that aired and agreed to, though he still needed to undergo the process of asking her father before things could be made truly official. Still, his shoulders felt lighter than they had a moment ago, despite the weight added by the rain. He had determined to marry this year, but the truth was he had never expected to like his wife so much as he liked Miss Dempsey. He had set his sights on tolerable and well-bred, but Miss Dempsey was intelligent and animated and positively adorable when she clasped her hands in front of her that way. He'd thought this arrangement through from every angle since making her acquaintance, and could not find a single criteria he might imagine that she did not meet — well, except one, and that he was unsure of and could not gather information on until after the wedding.
Though, now that he considered it — they were stuck under the oak tree together, removed from company and likely sheltered from any oversight from the house by virtue of the curtains of rain between them. He'd proposed and she'd accepted. If ever there was a time to press the bounds of propriety and kiss her, this was it. She was even already standing up against the trunk of the tree, as though she'd planned to give him this sort of opening. Victor's heart rate picked up as he let his eyes trail down around the curve of her chest. Having made his decision, he moved forward in a rush and pressed his lips to hers, far more forcefully than the perfunctory way he'd returned their first kiss.
Fabulous set by Lady!