Free Waltzing With the Wallflower by Rachel van Dyken, Leah Sanders Page A

night, the finally wanting his fate to be sealed with his brother ending his life, and his misery of losing Cordelia.
    “Cordelia,” he said. “I have to see her.”
    “That’s the spirit.” Anthony laughed. “Shall I ring for your valet?”
    “Brilliant. But perhaps you can ring outside the door.”
    It was exactly four hours, thirty minutes, and twenty-eight seconds later that Ambrose found himself on the front steps of Cordelia’s townhome.
    His palms hadn’t sweated this much since his first kiss with the servant girl on his family estates. He was one and four at that time, and his voice squeaked when the kiss ended.
    “Bloody, bloody, hel—lo!” he finished, saving himself from cursing in front of the butler, who was now staring him down with an impassive eye.
    “Lord Hawthorne to see Lady Cordelia.” He handed over his card and waited. The butler allowed him entry. His mouth went dry as his brain ran over all the possible things that could go horribly wrong.
    Suffice it to say, he was not at all confident when Cordelia strolled into the room with a grip on her dress like a vice. He wondered if she envisioned strangling him like she was her dress.
    “Cordelia.” It felt good to say her name, but stringing words into complete sentences didn’t seem possible at the moment. He could do nothing but stare, allowing his gaze to fully appreciate the woman in front of him.
    “My lord. You aren’t dead.” Was it him, or did she sound disappointed?
    “Are you terribly upset that I still live and breathe?”
    Cordelia looked away, her lower lip quivering. “That’s a horrid thing to say, and you know it.”
    “It seems I’ve been saying lots of horrid things lately.”
    She swallowed, still looking away. Her silence hung on him like a millstone around his neck, and he struggled to continue. “I came to speak with you about something of great importance.”
    “Oh?” Cordelia looked at him. “And what is that, Ambrose?”
    He sighed. “There is the matter of my heart.”
    Cordelia looked away again. “Well?”
    Apparently she wanted him to get on with it. “You see. My heart, it seems, is lost.”
    “I’m sure you can locate it if you search hard enough, my lord.”
    Ouch.
    “Therein lies the problem, Cordelia. One cannot go in search of something one never truly had in the first place.” He knelt in front of her and took a delicate hand into his possession. “I believe you can help me. You were the first to hold it, as well as the last. However, I am not here to retrieve it, but to offer you a humble apology for being so careless with yours.”
    “Mine?” her voice shook. Her gaze captured his.
    “Yes. You see, I practically threw my heart at you, asking—nay, begging for yours in return, and when you gave me your most precious possession, I spurned it at the first opportunity. And for that I will always be sorry. So I ask you keep my heart for the pain I’ve caused yours. I love you, Cordelia. I wish that were enough to keep you, but I see you for the woman you are. A woman who deserves a man who will nurture and provide for her, who will protect her when people slander her, a man who will—”
    “Oh, stop already!” Cordelia pulled Ambrose to his feet and before he could protest, kissed him full on the mouth. “I love you… I love you.” She kissed his lips and neck, and Ambrose found he wasn’t quite in the mood to control himself either. And considering he had such a close brush with death earlier in the day, it wasn’t quite fair to point fingers. Frankly, his sluggish mind conjured up the idea that he was still somewhat foxed.
    Never one to turn down an opportunity, he picked her up in his arms and laid her across the couch, covering her body with his own. Drinking in the taste of the woman he didn’t think would ever forgive him for his stupidity.
    “We will be discovered,” Cordelia said between kisses and sighs.
    “Oh, I hope so.” He bit her lower lip and opened her