Free Tempting Mr. Weatherstone: A Wallflower Wedding Novella (Originally Appeared in the E-Book Anthology FIVE GOLDEN RINGS) by Vivienne Lorret Page A

and stepped forward, using one of his handkerchiefs to wipe the tears from her face—“are the only way I can find peace in my own life.”
    She shook her head in disbelief.
    He grinned, contradicting her by nodding. “I need you, Pen. I need you more than I need a straight cravat or a smudgeless accounting ledger or even orange marmalade. I need you more than I need air to breathe.” He stepped closer, slipping his arms around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Because you are my air. I can only breathe when you are near. And if you will not be mine, if you will not consent to be my wife, then I may never breathe again.”
    She looked up at him and saw that his expression was no longer teasing but serious. “Wife?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. This was very . . . not sameness.
    He nudged her nose with his, gazing intently at her. “Yes.”
    “You want to marry me?” She felt she had to clarify, just in case.
    He chuckled and kissed her all-too-briefly on the lips. “That is the general idea. I don’t know of another way to go about trying to have you as my wife, so yes, I believe I’m asking you to marry me.”
    She smiled at his teasing. This, she knew, would always be the same. “You can’t blame me for needing clarification. It is rather unlike you, after all. I would have expected a paper marked with notes on how to proceed.”
    Again, he laughed, squeezing her tightly to him. “You know me so well. I had planned to get down on bended knee in the music room, in front of our parents, and very poetically ask you to be my wife.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “My plan was much simpler than what turned out, I’m afraid.”
    She closed her eyes as he trailed kisses along her jaw. “I like this way much better.”
    “You do?” He smiled against the spot just below her ear, nipping her bare lobe gently.
    Mmm . . . She made a sound of agreement. “Do you really need me more than you need a smudgeless ledger?”
    Ethan lifted his head and regarded her. “You doubt it?”
    She lifted her brows and gave him a teasing grin as she shrugged, challenging him to prove it.
    Without releasing her, he moved to his chair and sat down, pulling her down with him. He opened the top drawer to his left, and there, he drew out his ledger. She recognized it as the one from town by the volume number stamped into the cover. Opening it, he showed her. With a look of triumph, he pointed to a large smudge of ink near the center that completely obscured the figures beneath it. “That was the day I realized how much I love you.”
    She looked up at the date, her heart warming at the sight, and now understanding why she’d seen such a peculiar light in his eyes the day he took her to the jewelers.
    “Oh, Ethan, it took you that long to know?” She released a dramatic sigh, one of her best, she was sure. “I’ve known for years.”

 
    Epilogue—Christmas
    P ENELOPE AWOKE THE next morning, happier than she’d ever been in her life. She skipped down the stairs before any of the servants were awake. She couldn’t wait to start planning the rest of her life with Ethan.
    Stepping into her father’s study, she noted the tufted armchair by the fire. While it was similar to the one in his London study, she was no longer haunted by the specter of her future self. Instead, the happy vision of children and laughter filled her mind. She sighed with contentment and spun around.
    “Good morning,” Ethan said, surprising her by standing in the doorway.
    She went to him, rushing into his arms for no better reason than because she could. “Good morning.” She lifted her mouth to his and received a very nice kiss. A perfect kiss. “What brings you here so early?”
    He grinned at her, his eyes alight with molten copper. “A morning adventure.”
    “Oh?” Hmm . . . Perhaps he was here for more than a perfect kiss. The idea warmed her to her toes.
    He chuckled as if he knew the direction of her