“Yes, but anyone would—”
“The puppy, too. You’ve been taking care of him since we left Dartford, though God knows he’s naughty enough to put anyone out of temper.”
Dinah sniffled. “Well, he doesn’t like me much.”
A hint of a smile crossed Oliver’s lips. “I don’t know about that. He didn’t chew your pocket to bits.”
“Well, no.”
“No. Tell me then, sweetheart. What are these ‘other things’ you can’t be trusted to take care of?”
Dinah bit her lip. Once she said it, he’d know the truth, and there’d be no taking it back, but maybe…maybe she’d come too far for that, and maybe she no longer wanted to take it back.
“A heart,” she whispered at last. “Such a precious heart. I’m afraid if it’s trusted to me, I’ll make mistakes, and I’ll…I’ll break it.”
Oliver brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, but he was quiet for a long time before he asked, “Whose heart, Dinah?”
She tried to look down at her hands, but Oliver wouldn’t allow it. “No, look at me. Whose heart is so precious to you, you’re afraid to trust yourself with it?”
Dinah drew in a long, shaky breath, then she lay a trembling hand on his chest. Under her palm his heart was thundering, the beat strong and steady and true. “Yours.”
There was a brief, fraught silence, and then Oliver was gathering her against him, pressing his lips into her hair. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t you see? My heart isn’t mine anymore. It’s yours. Nothing will ever change that. The only way you could break it is by leaving me, and even then, it would still be yours.”
Dinah gripped his coat and let her forehead rest against his chest.
He held her, nuzzling her temple and scattering sweet, tender kisses over her cheeks, her eyelids and the tip of her nose. When her breathing calmed and her tears slowed, he eased her away from him so he could gaze down into her eyes. “Your heart is pounding.” He touched a fingertip to the hollow of her throat where her pulse was beating wildly.
“Yes.” She took his hand and pressed his palm flat against her chest, over her heart. “Perhaps it’s not frozen, after all.”
“It never was, Dinah.” He gazed down at her, his blue eyes bright with fear and love and hope. “It was just…waiting until it was safe.”
Dinah reached up and traced his lips with a hesitant finger. “It was waiting for you. I-I love you, Oliver.”
Oliver closed his eyes, as if he’d waited a lifetime to hear her say those words, and needed a quiet moment to treasure them. When he opened them again, they were glowing with joy and love. “I love you so much, sweetheart. You’ll marry me, Dinah? You’ll be my wife?”
Dinah hesitated, but for only a moment. She was still afraid, but this was no time to turn coward. When a man like Oliver Angel offered you his heart you took it, and spent a lifetime cherishing it.
“Yes. I’ll marry you. How could I not, after such a courtship?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Or did we decide it was an escapade? A Christmas courtship caper?”
“It was a lark. A playful, harmless bit of fun, and the first in a lifetime of adventures together.” He smiled down at her, his dimples flashing.
Dinah’s breath caught. She’d seen Oliver smile thousands of times, but never before had she seen him smile like this. It burst across his face like a sunrise, the warmth of its rays melting in an instant the last tiny shard of ice buried deep inside her heart.
EPILOGUE
CLIFF’S EDGE, ESSEX, ENGLAND, LATE APRIL, 1813
Marriage had made Dinah shamefully lazy.
Or perhaps it wasn’t marriage itself. Perhaps it was just a blissful marriage to a man she adored, but a lady did tend to spend a great deal more time lounging in bed when she was safely snuggled in her husband’s arms, her cheek pillowed on his bare chest and his hands stroking her hair.
Oh my, yes. She was every inch the languid, indolent lady these days. A contented smile curved her lips as she reached across the bed for Oliver. But instead of the smooth, warm skin and wild, rumpled hair that made her fingertips tingle with delight, her hand found only cool sheets.
“Oliver?” She sat up, frowning. The scent of Malmaison lingered in the folds of the sheets but it was faint, just an echo of vanilla and cedar. She glanced toward the window. A sliver of pale, dappled moonlight peeked between the drapes.
Where on earth was Oliver? She didn’t fancy a midnight game of hide and seek, but there wasn’t a chance she’d fall asleep again without him by her side.
She indulged in one last long, languid stretch, her arms over her head and her toes curling, but before she could throw the coverlet aside and commence a search for her wayward husband she was interrupted by a low, husky drawl from the doorway.
“Ah, now there’s a tantalizing vision.”
Dinah turned her head on the pillow. Oliver had one hip propped against the doorframe, his glittering blue eyes taking her in from head to toe.
“There you are.” Dinah rose onto her elbow and rested her head on her hand. “Where have you been?” Her gaze lingered on the bare expanse of skin revealed by the open neck of his shirt. “I missed you.” She held out a hand to him. “Come back to bed.”
Oliver’s eyes darkened and a flush rose in his cheeks, but he shook his head. “Soon. I want to show you something first. Come with me, sweetheart.”
“Can’t it wait?” She crooked a finger at him, an inviting smile curving her lips.
Oliver’s lips parted on a soft groan, but he kept a stubborn distance between himself and the bed. “No. You’ll like it, I promise you.”
She threw the covers aside with a sigh and rose from the bed. “Oh, very well. Do I have to get dressed, or…Oliver? What’s the matter?”
He looked pained, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “The moonlight, behind you. I can see every inch of you through your night rail. You’re so beautiful, love.”
Dinah looked down at herself, her cheeks heating. She’d never been the sort of lady who blushed, but Oliver’s hungry gaze seared her.
He strode across the room and snatched her into his arms. His hands moved restlessly over her curves as he nuzzled into her neck, inhaling deeply. “Dear God, you smell good. How do you always manage to smell so good?”
Dinah tangled her fingers in his hair. “I smell like you.”
“Hmmm. I smell lovely, then.” He bit gently at her throat, letting out a low growl. “Perhaps we should return to bed, after all.”
“Certainly not, my lord,” Dinah said with mock sternness. “I’m up now.”
“Yes, well, so am I.” He nudged his thigh between her legs. “Just let me…”
He trailed off with a groan as Dinah sank her teeth into his earlobe. She teased the tender flesh between her lips until Oliver was panting, but then she set him gently away from her. “If I let you do anything, we’ll never leave this bedchamber, and I’m curious to see what got you out of it in the first place.”