“I do apologize. You likely wish nothing to do with the both of us. I should box his ears for putting you off marrying me, but he was only trying to protect me.”
“Yes. He’s a good lad. And another reason you should not wish to marry me. I cannot be a good father.”
That turned her to ice. “What do you mean?”
He rolled his shoulders, looked out the window, though his gaze seemed to travel much farther than that, across oceans. “I plan to leave. When the dower house is complete. And I cannot change my plans. I could not be a good father to your son because I will not be there.” He finally turned to her, met her gaze. “Do you see?”
She did, and her body felt heavy as sodden skirts. “That does not signify. Not in a marriage of convenience as ours will be. Unless… Will your family wish us to leave with you?”
He laughed. “No. My mother will likely insist on keeping you always. And Alfie. She adores people like you.”
“People like me? What do you mean?”
“Interesting people, talented people. She loves beauty. As I do.”
The way he looked at her when he said that, as if she were the single focal point of all that beauty he loved. Made her catch her breath, made her feel as if the chair beneath her had dissolved entirely. She might fall. Was falling.
She shook the feeling off. “I see no impediment in this, then. I will not stop you from leaving.”
“Very well, then. We have much to do before leaving London tomorrow.”
The lathe in her chest started up again, spinning her heart faster than she could think. “You’ll… you’ll marry me?”
His hand covered hers, lifted it. He placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Yes. I will protect you. And your son.”
She closed her eyes and, in the darkness, found her body falling once more, but it landed against the wide shoulder of the man sitting beside her.
“I will demand nothing of you,” he said. “Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“If you wish to… I will not turn you away, but… I would never force… especially since I am leaving. There can be no children. I will not leave you like… that.” His words drifted into a strangled end.
Despite his harsh words in the music room last week, the man clearly respected women. She found herself not at all surprised. “Thank you.”
He shook his head, and a wavy lock of hair fell over his forehead. “You mustn’t feel obligated.”
“Careful.” She attempted a tiny grin. “You might shake your head right off your neck.” She peered at his cravat, picked at it with brave fingers. “Perhaps your cravat is the only thing holding it on.” Relief felt giddy inside her, made a goose of her. After all this time, she had a plan, a means of saving Alfie for good, not just for a fortnight or so.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not teasing.” He screwed a corner of his mouth up. “I do need to know one thing first.”
“Will it cause you to rescind your request?”
“Perhaps. But… is your father-in-law your son’s legal guardian? Are you?—”
“Kidnapping my own son? No. I am not. I am merely relocating the both of us, something Lord Tefler objects to. Fiercely. Alfie is my son, and Lord Tefler has no rights to him. It is merely… he has more power than me.” In every way. A titled man with money. She could never hope to defeat him. Unless, perhaps, she acquired a titled man with money of her own. Well, this one didn’t have money, but no one was perfect.
“Very well then.” He pushed a hand through his hair to smooth the rogue strand back into a silky, chocolate wave, then he stood and rounded the pianoforte to stand at her side. He knelt on one knee. “Mrs. Clara Bronwen, will you marry me?”
Not even Everette had proposed with such drama. He’d merely stomped into her small London tenement after her father’s death and told her to come along with him. No matter her belongings—leave them. He’d buy her all new. And he had. Only, she’d been forced into a new personality to go with the gowns, the jewels, the diction and learning.
This man had no money to buy her a thing. He gave her what he had, though—his protection, his name, and on a knee before her, his respect. They would marry for convenience, but still he knelt, bowed his head before her as if he were a true suitor, scared and trembling.
She wrapped a hand around his arm, tugged him to his feet, then released his arm. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
“Excellent.” He rocked from his heels to his toes and back again. “Well, then, we must plan.”
“Indeed.”
