In Magician's Embrace [BOOK 1 of Price Family Saga]

9. Chapter (Old Gossiper's Ball)

"You must divulge more, Marquess, for your enigmatic language leaves me perplexed. Should you persist in expressing yourself in a manner that only you comprehend, I shall forever remain in the dark. Are you the deceiver, or are they deceiving you?" Eliza inquired with curiosity, hoping the Marquess would, at last, offer meaningful explanations.

"They deceive me, of that I am certain. Regrettably, I also deceive you," he sighed.

Eliza maintained her silence, her certainty waning as to whether she should encourage further elucidation or find an excuse to depart as swiftly as possible.

"I deem myself a wicked man, Lady Price, aware of the minimal number of words required to deceive or wound another soul. Hence my cryptic language. I have never regarded myself as anything beyond others, and," his voice trembled, "as you can discern—I am but a wretched creature marked with a scar upon my countenance."

Eliza gently shook her head, a gesture denoting her dissent, and promptly interjected, "Have you ever beheld your reflection in the looking glass, Marquess St. Arcey? Perchance your vision is clouded, but permit me to articulate what I perceive. Above all, I behold an exceedingly handsome gentleman destined to be adored within society. However, I implore you to dwell less upon your fate, the stars, and other matters, lest you deprive yourself of the exquisite beauty that has already graced your path or may yet do so. Trust me, there is scarcely a lady who has not fleetingly envisioned a life by your side."

Twice, Eliza thwarted Travis' attempts to interject, and when she concluded, she felt as if hot roses had bloomed upon her cheeks. She realised that she had been too forthright, an unseemly behaviour for an engaged lady.

"And what of you, Lady Eliza? Have you ever imagined me by your side?" he softly inquired.

Her entire countenance now blazed with colour as she realised the predicament she had unwittingly walked into. Without uttering a word, she rose from her seat and took a stroll around the salon, where Corinne, Rose, and Lady Kendall had occupied the seating just a fortnight prior.

"I have faith in your capacity to become an exceptional husband and father, yet this time, I would be disingenuous if I claimed to have ever contemplated you in that regard. There was no cause to do so," Eliza finally exclaimed.

Travis sombrely bestowed a gentle smile, casting his gaze downward towards the floor.

"I must confess to you, my dear Lady Eliza, that in all those soirees, I was in attendance solely for the pleasure of your company. Your voice, as melodious as a nightingale's, and your radiant eyes, sparkling like precious amber, captivated my heart. When you rejected the multitude of suitors, I foolishly believed that perhaps you were awaiting my declaration. And in my misguided attempt, I may have distanced myself from you with my sombre speeches."

He moved away from the window and approached Eliza so close to it could have caused a grand scandal if anyone had entered the salon, but she didn't flinch. The tension in the air held her in place, her composure unwavering.

"Eliza, you occupy my every thought. From the moment I rise until the moment I lay my head to rest, my mind is filled with thoughts of you. Whether in moments of joy or in the depths of despair, you are always present. I am compelled to declare, before the world and especially before you, my fervent desire for you to become my wife. Will you honour me by accepting this proposal and becoming the Marchioness of St. Arcey?"

Travis spoke slowly, his voice filled with genuine emotion, yet maintaining the proper tone and mannerisms expected of a gentleman of his station. He gently ran his hand across Eliza's countenance, showing the depth of his affection. Then he held her face in his hands and as he leaned in, perilously close to her lips, Eliza realised the gravity of the situation though she perceived it all like a slowed-down scene and halted his advance.