One Moonlit Night (Moonlight Square: A Prequel Novella) (16 page)

She looked at the clock again and gulped, heart pounding.

She still had no idea what he was going to say, but she refused to look pathetic either way. She snatched her paisley shawl off the chairback on her way out of the room, then dashed down the upstairs hallway, went barreling down the steps, and only just remembered to grab the key to the park’s gate off the hook outside the door.

Papa was sitting with his feet up, having a smoke in his study at the front of the house. She paused at the threshold and turned to her lifelong champion. “Did he say something to you, Papa?”

“I’ll be here if you need me,” was all he said, and sent her a wink.

Trinny shook her head, baffled, but there was no time to waste.

“Goodbye, my dear,” her father said softly as she raced out of the house, pulling the door shut behind her.

Trinny hurried across the street, only then realizing her shoes didn’t match her gown at all.
Blast it!
She’d forgotten to change them. But there was no time now. Oh well. He’d never notice. She fumbled with the key, squinting in the darkness, but finally unlocked the gate and stepped into the park.

She pulled it shut behind her with a bang, probably alerting him that she was on her way…if he hadn’t already given up and left.

Then she ran to find him, unsure if she was bound for heaven or hell.

Running through the park like a wild thing made the neat chignon she’d worn in her hair all day start bouncing free of the combs meant to hold it in place, slipping sideways.

Lopsided hair, too! Oh, she was a prize.

Still, she didn’t bother stopping, but pulled the combs out as she ran to him, shaking her long hair loose down her back, feeling gloriously free.

It did occur to her that when Gable saw her like this, out of breath and disheveled, her eyes still swollen from crying over him, he would know exactly how she felt. That she loved him desperately. That she saw now she couldn’t be happy without him. That she was so sorry she had hurt him and insulted him, and that whatever his flaws, her life was empty without him. Even if he only wanted to be friends, she would accept that.

Anything…

Oh yes, one look at her like this and he’d know she’d come running when he called, but Trinny was past standing on her pride.

If he broke her into pieces tonight with the news that he’d found another future countess willing to accept his wicked ways just to get herself a castle and a man who would at least give her beautiful children, then so be it. In the midst of Trinny’s cold terror, however, she clung to a small ray of hope. After all, Papa had seemed to know something…

The fanciful white gazebo came into sight, beguiling in the darkness. And there, pacing back and forth in front of it, was Gable, waiting for her.

When he turned sharply at the sound of her footsteps crunching on the graveled path, she slowed to a swift, nervous walk, her heart in her throat.

“I’m here!” she called out as loudly as she dared. She strode toward him, trying to look and sound more self-assured than she felt. “Sorry if I’m late.”

“You’re not late.” He paused. Stared at her for a long moment. “I’d wait all night if need be,” he said in a strange, ginger tone. “I’m just glad you came. Thank you.”

They stood warily scrutinizing each other, and Trinny wasn’t sure what to make of him. Gable was a man who masked his emotions as a matter of course. In the moonlight, it was all but impossible to read him. Still, she thought she detected a troubled look in his eyes. It was difficult to say.

A night bird cooed mournfully in the silence between them, and then they both started to speak at the same time.

“I wanted—”

“I wondered—”

They both stopped. Trinny cringed.
Awkward.

Gable offered her a courteous nod, studying her as though he was trying just as hard to gauge
her
emotions as she was his.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, then stood there waiting, with her nerves stretched as thin and taut as lyre strings.

For a long moment, he gazed at her, sadness creeping into his chiseled face, and this time, he let her see it. “You were right about me, Katrina. Your words, they cut me deeply,” he uttered in a slow, soft tone. “But they also woke me up. I need you, you see.
You.
This has nothing to do with the money or the castle or anything of the sort. If I don’t have you, I have nothing.”

As he took a step closer, she looked up at him in wonder.

“I don’t care anymore if my father cuts me off. I told him so. This has nothing to do with his wishes or any of the foolish things that mattered so much before I learned this unbearable lesson…of what it feels like to lose you.”

She swallowed hard.

He shook his head, staring tenderly into her eyes. “Please come back to me, Katrina. All that matters now is having you by my side. Why I didn’t see that from the start, I don’t know. I’ve been…so incredibly foolish and immature and all the things you said I was—”

“No! I’m sorry for them all!” she whispered, laying her hand on his forearm as she drew closer. “I had no right to speak to you that way. You’re a good person.”

“Don’t apologize, sweeting. On the contrary, I
owe
you for telling me the truth. I needed to hear it. And you were right.” He shook his head and shrugged. “That’s why I asked you here tonight. To let you know I’ll do anything it takes to win you. I can’t bear this anymore, being shut out of your life. I need you. I love you, Katrina, and I want to be with you and only you. Forever.”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“Run away with me, tonight.”

She drew in her breath. “Run away?” she echoed, feeling slightly dizzy.

“Let’s elope to Gretna Green. I have my carriage waiting.”

She took a step back, gaping at him in astonishment, clapping both her hands to her mouth.

“I know you’ve got your doubts about me,” he said softly. “But I swear to you, if you’ll give me another chance, you’ll see that I’ve absolutely changed.
You
changed me.

“Believe me,” he added, “I never anticipated this. I never would’ve thought it was possible for me. But I sincerely have no interest in that old life anymore. It’s over. You’re the only woman I desire. You must know I’m telling you the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you. I never have,” he said. “From that first night we met in this very spot, we’ve always been open and honest with each other, have we not?”

Hands still covering her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers, she could only nod.

“So let me spend the years ahead figuring out every way I can devise to make you happy, darling. Will you marry me? Well? God, say something,” he whispered.

Words were actually beyond her right then.

Instead, she let out a small, incoherent cry and launched herself into his arms.

He caught her around the waist and lifted her off her toes as she flung her arms around his neck.

“I love you, too!” she choked out at last.

“Thank God.” As he held her close, burying his face against her neck, it was only then that she felt him trembling. “I was so sure I’d lost you.” He squeezed her even tighter. “I love you. I never knew it could be like this.”

“I love you, too, Gable.” She covered his smooth-shaved cheek in tearful kisses until he turned his face and caught her lips with his own.

“My darling,” he breathed. He set her on her feet and claimed her mouth in rapturous hunger.

Trinny clutched his lapels and pulled him down to her, desperate for more of his kisses. Just being with him again soothed her soul, and his declaration of love had her giddy.

He kissed her again and again, his warm, gentle hand sliding into the curve of her nape under the fall of her hair.

She tore away from his breathless kisses. “You really want to marry me?”

“Yes. I insist on it, actually. Didn’t your father tell you I spoke to him today?”

“So that’s what he meant,” she whispered slowly, fresh tears filling her eyes.

Gable smiled fondly at her. “You didn’t realize I summoned you out here to ask for your hand?”

“Why would I assume such a thing?” she exclaimed. “Nobody ever wants to marry me!”

“Oh, I do, sweeting.” He took hold of her shoulders and looked fiercely into her eyes. “I am
so
glad none of those other fellows ever proposed to you. If you’d said yes to one of them, my whole life would’ve been ruined.”

She held his gaze somberly. “Something in me must’ve known to wait for you. My true love.”

“My darling girl,” he murmured, visibly moved by her artless words. He gathered her into his embrace and held her like he’d never let her go.

Trinny rested her head on his chest, profound relief mingling with her joy and trembling gratitude as he cradled her head against his heart.

“Can we really leave tonight?” she whispered.

“Right now,” he promised. “Shall we?”

They parted a small space, but he captured her hand, linking his fingers through hers.

“Elope with me?” he asked.

“Well…as long as you’re sure,” she said. “Because, you realize, if we do this, you’re stuck with me.”

A tender smile spread across his face. “That, my dear, sounds like my idea of paradise.”

A teary-eyed laugh burst from her. “Then take me to your carriage!”

He lifted her hand and kissed it, and then he did just that.

As they walked away from the gazebo, Trinny’s feet barely touched the ground. Gable led her through the moon-silvered park, down the winding path to the opposite side of the square, and out the other gate, where an elegant coach-and-four waited.

Hurrying by his side, Trinny did not look back, not to get her things or even to consult her parents. Papa would know when she didn’t return that her answer had been yes, and then he’d tell her mother and the girls.

She’d write them a letter from Scotland once she was married, and she’d sign it
Lady Roland.

Gable got the carriage door for her and, with a jubilant note in his deep voice, ordered his driver to head north. Then he handed her up into the coach, where a bottle of champagne waited on ice. It was a while before they opened it, however, many miles up the road. First they had more pressing matters to attend to.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they had to make up for lost time.

Epilogue

Queen of Castle McCray

Three weeks later

I
n all her life, Trinny never thought she’d end up as the lady of a castle, married to a man as beautiful and good as Gable Winston-McCray, Viscount Roland.

Or Lord Sweet Cheeks, as she still preferred to call him. But she was Lady Sweet Cheeks now, and here she sat, on a bench on a chilly Scottish day in early June, watching the crashing waves of the North Sea, hoping to see another whale out there, all while cozily wrapped up in a red-and-blue wool tartan blanket of the clan McCray.

Her family now, too.

Overhead, the afternoon sky was moodily dramatic, with sunbeams breaking through the clouds. The salt wind tossed her red hair about her shoulders. Her husband had gone inside to fetch them hot drinks to keep them warm. Frankly, it was good to come up for air, as this was one of the few times they’d even left the bedroom. To be sure, being married to a reformed rakehell had its advantages.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as she pulled her feet up onto the bench and wrapped her arms around her bent knees, staring at the waves.

That wonderfully depraved lover of hers did things to her that took her to heaven and sent her home again in a box of candy. After three weeks of his almost nonstop lovemaking, she had become something of an expert herself already, not to brag.

And, oh, those sweet cheeks of his! Their lean, muscled curves were even more adorable bare, and it made her very jolly to give them a good little spanking every now and then, which the rogue protested but clearly enjoyed.

His cute male derriere, however, was just the beginning of her man’s countless beauties. She was still as dazed by the breathtaking wonder of his muscular body as she had been the first time they had been naked together, on their wedding night.

Her deflowering had hurt a bit, though he had been gentle, but everything since had been sheer bliss. She felt so close to him since they’d become lovers, and his complete acceptance of her had set her free. Sometimes she was a little shocked at her own enthusiasm, but what could she do? Her wicked playmate drove her deliciously mad. Whether riding him in a frenzy in their huge canopy bed or being ravished by him on the kitchen table—or in any other random room of the castle that caught their fancy—she was desperately in love with him, and he with her. More deeply every day.

She gazed down again wistfully at the ring on her finger and smiled in lingering amazement. Thinking back to the heart-tugging ceremony at the famous blacksmith’s forge at Gretna Green, she would not have had her wedding any other way.

“This should keep you warm!” he called just then from behind her.

She turned and saw him heading toward her—lord of the castle that loomed just a few hundred yards up the emerald slope. A smile spread across her face at the sight of her mate and best friend.