Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(65)

“Susanah?”

A scrambling noise came from the bedchamber. He hurried forward and found her crouched on the floor trying to untangle her nightgown. Her glorious hair slid across her rounded back, but not entirely covering her nudity. She averted her head, but not before he realized her cheeks were glistening with moisture.

Something inside him broke and he hated himself in that moment. He should never have left her so soon after making love for her first time. They’d shared something beyond amazing and he’d let his temper and fears get the best of him. He grabbed the coverlet off the bed, wrapped it around her, and scooped her up into his arms. “Hush, darling.”

He moved to the chair in front of the fireplace. There were only embers left. It would be dawn soon. But he snuggled her into his lap. Her shaking belied that her tears hadn’t stopped. He cradled her close feeling his own eyes grow damp. “I’m sorry, darling. Don’t cry.”

“I feel so alone,” she sobbed.

“I’m here now. I’ll never leave you.”

She went very still. He wanted to beg her to stop him if she were about to refuse him, but that was cowardly.

He tilted her back and lifted her chin. “Don’t you know I love you?”

Her swollen, red-rimmed, not quite so lavender-colored eyes widened. Her cheeks were blotchy. Bloody hell, she must have been crying as if her heart were broken. She gave a faint shake of her head. “You do?”

He nodded and let her see the tears that had pooled in his own eyes. “I can’t bear the thought of living my life without you. So, I’m begging you to marry me. Please, Susanah, I love you with all my soul.”

“I love you,” she said tremulously.

Which wasn’t an answer. She might still think her duty precluded a marriage of the heart. “Susanah, you have to marry me. I’ve compromised you, and you’ve ruined me for other women.”

“I have?”

He gave her a little shake. “You are the only woman I want. You are all the woman I need.”

Her brow furrowed. “But…”

He nearly growled. With his history, he supposed she needed reassurance. Not to mention the way he’d just walked out on her. He needed to grovel. “I thought when you answered my question about why you were here, you were telling me you’d already married Farringate.”

Her mouth rounded. “No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t. I don’t want to.”

He almost growled. She hadn’t said she wouldn’t. But he couldn’t allow any more misunderstandings. Not on his side, nor on hers. “I’ll admit I did look most particularly at Lady Ashton. She is beautiful, but I didn’t even notice she was there at first. All I could see was you. When I did finally notice her, I didn’t feel the slightest inclination in her direction. I was too dumbfounded to grasp why at that moment. I guess I hadn’t realized that you were the only one for me, even though I knew that I loved you.”

Susanah tucked her chin down. Her voice was small as she asked, “What about that lady at Almack’s that you flirted with so outrageously?”

He had to think a minute before he blurted out, “Rebecca?”

Susanah shifted on his lap. “You called her Becky.”

“It’s a game we play. She’s my oldest brother’s wife. I would never…” Bloody hell. “I’m sorry, darling. I was trying to divert attention from my relationship with you, not hurt you. Susanah, I love you and only you.”

She still hadn’t answered, so he stood, dumped her into the chair, and then knelt on one knee. He had to reach inside the folds of the coverlet to find her hand and he pretended not to notice that he could see her bare breast. “Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

Her lips curled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Will you ever answer? I’m dying a very slow death waiting for your answer.”

“I will be honored to be your wife,” she said primly.

And that was that. Well, other than he was done pretending that he couldn’t see her lovely, little, exposed breast and reached into the folds to cup it. It was sometime in the mid-morning hours when they were laying naked on the bed that he realized the purple bed curtains gave her eyes the lavender cast. He admitted to a fascination with the way they could reflect her surroundings. And she laughed—actually laughed—and admitted to an equal fascination with his eyes.

Then there was the agreement with the Ashtons to return to London for a special license. Evan married her before the ink was dry. Then he insisted on buying his wife a purple dress and paints.

The inevitable meeting with her father could have been worse, but he’d survived it. He’d had some satisfaction in telling the man that he didn’t give a fig for her dowry or inheritance, and he wouldn’t take them. He’d left Lord Weatdon with his mouth agape as he’d suggested giving her dowry to Farringate if he needed a political ally so badly. Weatdon had signed over the funds anyway.

Then Evan took her home to meet Gilbert. Which went much better than he could have hoped. Her years of keeping her expressions controlled kept her from betraying shock or dismay. But then over the months, the two became constant companions while he worked. Her sweet attention on his cousin had him at times fighting jealousy. But the nights were all his—for a while at least.