The Emerald Viscountess

~31~

Eleanora looked longingly into the crowd, thankfully hidden away in some of the rose bushes. She tightened her shawl around herself and shivering in the chilling night air, wishing for Anthony's touch to warm her up. At the thought of him, he approached her, rustling the gardens.

"Are you still planning to leave for the Americas?" he asked after the two exchanged a longing gaze.

"Yes," she answered quietly. "I believe it is what would be best for me. No matter what, my parents will always be with me in spirit no matter where I venture."

"You love your family," Anthony noted, making quiet steps towards her.

"As much as you love yours," Eleanora responded with a small smile as her eyes watered.

Anthony let out a shaky breath, his speech planned out in his mind that he had concocted on his walk to Eleanora through the gardens. "I was fearful of losing you," he confessed, voice quivering. "It is why I could not visit you after your accident. I could not bring myself to . . ."

He trailed off, attempting to recompose himself so that he didn't just breakdown then and there.

"I love you," Anthony finally said, making Eleanora's heart explode.

She had to refrain every fiber of her being from throwing herself at the viscount and slamming her lips against his.

Anthony continued making determined steps towards her as to not confess his love from so far away. "I've loved you from the moment we met at three and ten years of age, I've loved you when you were married off, I loved you when we didn't speak for ten years. I loved you when you reunited with my family, when you helped Daphne with her season. I loved you when I was sleeping with Miss Rosso, I loved you when you finally debuted. I loved you in that emerald dress. I loved you when we first danced. I loved you when I was courting Miss Edwina. I loved you at every dance, everytime we've been together and when we've been apart.

"I have loved you every moment of every day for the past five and ten years, and it has never ceased. You do not have to accept it, you do not have to embrace it, or even allow it. Knowing you, you probably will not - but you must know it . . . in your heart. You must feel it, because I do."

The viscount put a hand to his chest. He felt his heart beat in strength through his clothes after confessing his feelings after what felt like an infinity of keeping his words to himself. Finally, all cards were on the table. Anthony Bridgerton loved Eleanora Fitzwilliam. He felt that if he hesitated another moment of telling her, he would combust.

Finally, he had said it.

Eleanora's eyes watered and she beamed, seeing in Anthony's eyes from the nearby torchlight that he meant what he said with every cell in his body. Oh, his eyes . . .

"Anthony . . ." Eleanora struggled, her chin quivering and tears falling down from joy. "There seem to be no words with the ability to form from my mouth, except . . ." She raised her voice louder than a previous whisper, "I love you, Anthony Bridgerton!"

He smiled at her enthusiasm, grateful for her reaction to his words. "I want a life that suits us both," Anthony said, shortening the proximity between the two. "I know I am imperfect, but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you, and that is why I wish to marry you."

Eleanora could read in Anthony's eyes that he meant every word he said. Not once in Anthony's life had he felt the need to humble himself before anyone, but without ever realizing it, he met his match. And his match was standing before him, accentuated in mint green.

Eleanora let more tears fall down, and Anthony wiped them from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb, and she recomposed herself. "You would be rather foolish to think that I wouldn't say yes to your proposal."