“Dead. Both of them drowned in the bog. It was horrible, Darcy. I was nearly sucked down with them. I would have died if Wild Sal hadn’t appeared and rescued me.”

“I’ve a good mind to take you over to a convent in Ireland and lock you up there until we can be married,” he said, half laughing. “That is, if you want to marry me someday.” He paused. “I didn’t get the feeling you were too keen on the idea last time we spoke about it.”

“Because I thought I couldn’t marry you and I didn’t know how to tell you,” I said.

“You can’t marry me? Why? And don’t tell me you’re engaged to Prince Siegfried again.”

I had to laugh. “I’m part of the line of succession,” I said. “English law prevents a claimant to the throne from marrying a Catholic.”

“Then I’ll give up my religion if that’s what it takes,” he said.

“You don’t have to, Darcy, and I wouldn’t want you to. But it’s all right. Your aunt said I could just renounce my place in the line. I hadn’t realized I could do that.”

“You’d give up the throne of England for me?” he asked, his eyes challenging mine in the darkness.

“Darcy, I’m only thirty-fifth in line,” I said. “Unless there is a particularly big epidemic I don’t think there’s any danger of my becoming queen. And besides, the answer to that question is yes. I would give up the throne of England to marry you. Only you haven’t asked me properly yet.”

“You’re right.” He went down on one knee, oblivious to the people milling around us. “Lady Georgiana of Glen Garry and Rannoch, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

And I, who prided myself on never crying, cried for the second time in one evening.

“I can’t think of anything I want more,” I said.

Around us the crowd broke into applause, and as if on cue, the church bells began to ring.

Darcy took me into his arms. “Happy New Year,” he said and he kissed me.

Chapter 42

Chapter 42

NEW YEAR’S DAY, JANUARY 1, 1934

Everyone is going home today. I wonder where I will go?

Queenie didn’t come in with her tray until after ten o’clock the next morning.

“That Mr. Darcy told me to let you sleep,” she said. “My, but he’s a bossy one, ain’t he? And they are saying you’re going to marry him. You really going to let him boss you around all your life?”

“Yes, I am, I suppose,” I said.