Who Needs Mr Willoughby? (19 page)

“I’ll be right there,” she called back, swiping on more gloss with a shaky hand and pressing her lips together.

“You look perfect,” Elinor assured her in a low voice. “Now hurry up. You don’t want to keep your potential future husband waiting.”

Marianne stood on unsteady legs and let out a long, shaky breath. “God, I’m so nervous I could die. What about my hair?” She put a hand to the loosened length of it with a doubtful expression. “Should I pin it up –?”

“No.” Elinor’s words were firm. “There isn’t time. Besides, it’ll make you look as though you tried too hard.”

“You’re right.” She bit her lip. “I’ll leave it down.”

“Mari
anne
.” Her mother appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were dark with anxiety and excitement. “What are you doing?” she fretted. “Come downstairs at once.”

“How does he look?” her youngest daughter asked anxiously.

“Very handsome,” Mrs Holland replied, “and more than a little nervous. And damp. It’s pouring down with rain out there.”

“Poor Kit.”
Why couldn’t it be a clear, starry evening
? Marianne wondered. Cold air and starry skies were much more suited to a romantic marriage proposal than cold and driving rain.

She drew in a deep breath. “All right. I’m ready.”

“And about time, too,” her mother scolded. “Mr Willoughby’s been waiting patiently in the drawing room.”

Marianne preceded her mother down the stairs, her heart wildly fluttering in her chest, and made her way into the drawing room. She gave her mother and sister a quick, distracted smile as she closed the doors on them, because she knew – just
knew
– that the two of them would hover outside the doorway, blatantly eavesdropping.

Kit, wearing a decidedly damp overcoat, waited by the fireplace, one arm resting against the mantle.

“Mari.” He strode forward and took her into his arms, wrapping her up and kissing her as if they hadn’t just seen each other the day before, then drew back. “Sorry,” he apologised, and eyed her ruefully. “I’ve got you all wet.”

She laughed. “As if I care. I’m just sorry you had to come out in such crap weather. Will the competition tomorrow be cancelled, do you think?”

“I doubt it. The rain’s supposed to stop later tonight, and by afternoon, the ground should be dry enough to go forward.”

“Here, give me your coat, and come and sit down.”

He shrugged out of his raincoat and handed it over, then took a seat on the sofa by the fire that crackled invitingly behind the grate and waited as she hung up his coat to dry. “I’d go through a lot worse than rain for you, you know. Snow…earthquakes…a mudslide…”

“Well, I don’t think you need to worry about any of that. At least, not tonight.” She tried to quiet the wild thrumming of her heart as she sat down next to him. “Although I’ve heard Lady Violet say that Northumberland
does
get rather a lot of snow in the winter months –”

“I don’t want to talk about snow.” Kit reached out to take her hands impatiently in his. “I didn’t come here tonight to compare notes about the weather.”

“Sorry,” Marianne said, and gave him an apologetic glance. “I’m babbling. I’m more than a little nervous…”

“Me, too. I won’t deny it.” He glanced down at his hands clasping hers, squeezed them, and looked back up into her eyes. “I’ve never done anything like this before, so you’ll have to forgive me if I bungle it.”

Her pulse quickened. “Never done – what, exactly?”

“As if you didn’t know.” He leaned forward, smiling, and kissed her. His lips were warm and reverent as they lingered on hers. He drew back. “I’ve never fallen in love with anyone before. I’ve never –” he stopped.

Marianne scarcely dared to breathe. She’d forgotten
how
to breathe.
Was this it? Was this the moment she’d waited for, all of her life?

Kit pushed himself to his feet and stood for a moment, then bent down on his knee and took her hands once again in his. They shook slightly.

“Marianne Holland,” he asked, his voice low and his eyes locked on hers, “will you – will you make me the happiest man in all of Northumberland, and say you’ll marry me?”

Chapter 30

A bubble of laughter rose and escaped her lips as she breathed, “Will I? As if you even needed to ask… Of course I’ll marry you, Kit!”

He got to his feet, grinning as she flung herself into his arms, and as their lips melded in a hungry, greedy kiss, Marianne heard giggling and excited whispers coming from the other side of the drawing room doors.

“That’ll be mum and Ellie,” she murmured against his mouth. “They’ve been outside the door the entire time.”

“I thought as much.” He stroked a strand of hair back from her face. “I hope they’ll be as happy for us as I am right this minute.”

“Are you serious?” Marianne kissed him. “Mum’s waited all her life to see me and Ellie married off. One down, one to go…”

“I’m sure Edward will pop the question to your sister soon. He’s obviously as besotted with her as I am with you. How can he not be?” he added, and raised her hand to his lips. “You Holland girls are irresistible.”

“Don’t forget ‘ravishing’,” she added.

“Smart, too. Goes without saying.”

“It’s no wonder I love you so much.” Marianne kissed him again and eased herself from his embrace.

“I don’t have your engagement ring yet. I thought we could go and pick one out together."

“What?” she lifted her brow. “No family heirloom to put on my finger? No antique diamond ring that’s been in your family for generations?”

A shadow passed over his face. “No. I wish…but nothing like that. I’m sorry.”

Marianne drew back. “I was teasing, Kit! I don’t care about any of that. You could put a – a curtain ring on my finger, for all I care.”

“I think I can do a bit better than that.” He paused. “I want you to be happy, Mari. I only wish I could give you my mother’s ring, and not just a ring from a jeweller’s shop.”

“What I want is to tell Ellie and mum the news that we’re engaged.” She turned away towards the doors. “I can’t wait to tell the entire
world
.”

“Marianne – wait.” Willoughby reached out to catch her hand in his and drew her back. He hesitated. “Before you go, there’s something we need to talk about.”

She looked up at him, at the sudden tense lines of his face, and her smile faltered. “Talk about what? What is it? Kit, what’s wrong?” Her eyes searched his. “I can tell my family and friends about our engagement, can’t I –?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I’d like to keep the news between us for now. Just for a bit. You can tell your mother and sister, of course,” he hastened to add as he saw her stricken expression. “But let’s hold off on telling anyone else.”

“But…why?” she asked, confusion darkening her eyes. “Why can’t we announce our engagement? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Come and sit down, and I’ll try to explain.” He led her back to the sofa and drew her down beside him. “It’s my Aunt Eugenia. She doesn’t approve,” he confessed, and hesitated. “Only because she doesn’t know you properly yet. Once she spends some time with you, she’ll come to love you as much as I do, I know she will.”

“Oh. I see.” Some of the joy she felt deflated. “She doesn’t want me to marry you. She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“No, of course not. It’s just that…I come into my trust fund next year,” he explained carefully, “and I’ll inherit Allenham when Aunt Eugenia dies. So she’s understandably protective of the estate, and of me. She expects me to marry someone –” he stopped, and hesitated. “Someone else.”

“Someone wealthy, you mean, with a title, and a double first from Oxford.” Marianne’s words were flat. She drew away from him. “Not a nobody from South Devon without a penny to her name.”

“That’s not true,” Kit said sharply. “Don’t ever say that. You’re not a nobody, you’re the woman I love. And I don’t care how much money your family has – or doesn’t have.” He reached out to take her hands in his once again, and fixed an imploring gaze on hers. “I only want you, Mari. No one else! I just need to smooth the way with my aunt first, that’s all, let her spend some time getting to know you better before we make our engagement public. Please tell me you understand.”

She frowned and stared down at her hands clasped in his. A dozen emotions swirled inside her in a confusing mix – disappointment, anger, and hurt among them – as she grappled to come to terms with what Willoughby had just told her.

“How long?” she asked, and lifted her face to his. “How long before we have your aunt’s blessing, and can tell the world we’re getting married?”

“Not long at all, I promise.” He kissed her, slowly, with a sweet, tender thoroughness. “Please don’t be put out with me. I can’t stand to see you unhappy.”

Marianne drew in a deep, steadying breath and managed a tremulous smile. “I’m not put out, and I’m happy. Very happy. You’ve asked me to marry you. I just wish I could tell everyone our news.”

“And you will,” he promised again, and stood up. “Starting with your mother and sister, right now.”

As Kit and Marianne emerged from the drawing room, Mrs Holland and Elinor waited, regarding them with expectant faces.

“Well?” Marianne’s mother prodded.

“Well…I’m happy to say that I’ve asked your daughter to marry me, and she’s said yes. She’s agreed to become my wife,” Willoughby informed them, and his face creased into a smile.

“Oh, my darling, dearest Mari, that’s wonderful news,” Mrs Holland crowed, beaming as she swept her daughter into her arms. She turned to Kit. “Congratulations to you both, Mr Willoughby.”

“Kit, please,” he corrected her. “After all, I’m practically family now.”

“So you are,” she agreed as she embraced him, “and I’m very pleased at the prospect.”

“I’m
so
happy for you, Mari,” Elinor said, and hugged her sister tightly in turn.

“I can’t wait to go and tell Lady Violet the news, and Harriet, too,” Mrs Holland declared. “I’ll quite enjoy telling that smug madam all about it, I don’t mind saying so –”

“You can’t tell her, mum. You can’t tell anyone.” Marianne’s words were quiet but firm.

Her mother stared at her, bewildered. “I can’t? Why on earth not?”

“We’re keeping the news to ourselves, just for a while,” Willoughby explained, and glanced at his new fiancée. “We want to keep our good fortune to ourselves before we share it with the world.” He looked at Mrs Holland and Elinor in turn. “I hope you’ll understand, and forgive us, and respect our wishes to keep the engagement a secret – at least for the time being.”

“Of course.” Elinor reached out to hug him. “We won’t breathe a word to anyone, will we, mum?” she added as she drew back and gave her mother a pointed glance.

“Well – no, I suppose not. If that’s what Mr Willoughby – I mean, Kit – and Mari want,” she said doubtfully, “then of course we won’t speak of it. Although it’ll be difficult not to, when I simply
long
to share the news that my daughter’s engaged to be married –!”

“Have you set a date yet?” Elinor asked her sister as Willoughby excused himself to go back into the drawing room and fetch his coat.

“No. We haven’t talked about any of that. There’s plenty of time.”

“Just don’t leave it too long,” Mrs Holland advised. “You should start planning now, before all the best venues are taken and every church in Northumberland is booked.”

Before Marianne could argue that (a) they had masses of time and (b) there were plenty of venues and churches in Northumberland to go round, Kit returned and shrugged on his coat.

“Sorry, but I have to go.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips briefly against Marianne’s. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you out.”

“There’s no need, it’s still raining outside.”

“I don’t care,” she insisted, and grabbed up his umbrella from the stand. “I’m seeing you out and that’s that.”

“In that case, there’s no use my arguing, is there?” He took the umbrella from her and opened the door. “Goodbye Mrs Holland, Elinor,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Goodbye,” they echoed, and after further well wishes and congratulations, they withdrew down the hall to the kitchen to discuss the evening’s events over a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.

Willoughby opened his umbrella and held it over Marianne as they went outside and stood at the top of the steps. “I miss you already,” he admitted, and leaned forward once again to kiss her. “I can’t stand to be apart from you.”

“I hate it, too.” Marianne gave in to the bliss of sharing warm, rain-flavoured kisses with her fiancé under the shelter of his umbrella. “I just wish we didn’t have to keep things under wraps,” she added as they – reluctantly – drew apart.

“It won’t be long,” Willoughby assured her. “A few weeks, a month at most. Just time enough for my aunt to get to know you better and realise what an amazing person you are. And she will do.”

“I hope you’re right,” Marianne sighed.

“I am. I’m
always
right,” he added, and grinned. “Something you’ll realise soon enough, once we’re married.”

“Wrong, Willoughby. It’ll be the other way round.”

As they went down the steps together, her glance went to the cream-coloured Jaguar XJR parked at the bottom.

“Ooh, nice,” she approved. “Is it yours?”

“Ours,” he corrected, pleased. “Ours, now. After all, my beautiful bride-to-be has to ride around Hadleighshire in style, doesn’t she?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kit – it’s gorgeous…I love it. You have to take me for a ride in it, and soon.”

“I will, I promise. I’ll set something up with my Aunt Eugenia very soon so the two of you can get better acquainted.”

Marianne quailed. “Erm…yes, of course. The sooner, the better.”

“Don’t worry, darling, you’ll win her over without even trying. Goodbye.” He leaned forward under the umbrella and kissed her again.

Her mouth lingered on his. “Goodbye, Kit. Love you.”

“Love
you
. Now, I’ve really,
truly
got to go.”

“Okay. But I don’t have to like it.” Marianne pouted and drew reluctantly away before she turned and dashed towards the front steps. “See you soon.”