Benedict nodded his acknowledgment. “Thank you.”
“You’re a good man, Marlsbrook. I feel it in my bones,” Jennie said. “But I am not the one you need to convince.”
“Understood,” he said.
He entered the room and closed the door behind him. Alex wondered dully if she should be concerned about the propriety of the situation, but she shrugged away the thought. Propriety be damned. This was far more important than the impression some stuffed shirts might have of her.
“I am sorry, Alexandra,” he said, coming to her. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought…I thought I was protecting you, in my own way.”
“Benedict, why are you here?” She swiped a renegade tear from her cheek. “Just when I thought I’d putusbehind me.”
“I was a fool. And a coward. I know that now. I want you with me. Forever.”
For so long, she’d yearned to look into his eyes and hear him speak words of love. But now, they brought fear as well as the faint hope of joy. She wanted a life with Benedict. More than anything, she wanted to believe their love would endure.
But how could she be certain?
Was she opening her heart to more pain?
“Tell me why…why now?” she murmured.
He drew her to him. Cupping his hand around the back of her head, he kissed her lightly. The taste of his lips was a delicacy, and she savored it.
He took a step back, clasping her hands. “You, my dear Alexandra, are a treasure worth more than any artifact, more than any jewel in a king’s crown.”
“Oh dear.” Her knees wobbled.
“I know I’ve hurt you. There is no way to change the past. But from this moment forward, I will do everything in my power to justify your faith in me.”
“Benedict, I don’t know—this is so sudden. So very unexpected.”
He slipped a hand in the pocket of his waistcoat. “Alexandra Mary Quinn, I propose a collaboration—one that will last a lifetime.”
“A collaboration?” Goodness, she sounded like a daft parrot.
Slowly, he nodded. And then, he went down on one knee.
“Alexandra, I must ask you a question. I pray you will consider my love for you before you give me your answer.”
“Yes, Benedict—what is your question?” she murmured, seeing the adoration in his eyes. Her heart soared. The most talented thespian could not mimic the tender feeling in his gaze as he looked at her.
He took her left hand in his and slid a golden band adorned with a princess-cut diamond onto the third finger—her ring finger.
“Alexandra Mary Quinn, will you take me as your husband? For better or for worse? Even though I am a fool for having waited so long.”
Joy swelled in her heart. She loved him so very much. With all her heart.
She stared down at the ring on her finger. For so long, she’d dreamed of this moment.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, freeing the strands she’d so carefully pinned in place. Her curls tumbled down around her shoulders, and she smiled as she looked at him. She wanted to memorize everything about this night. Every word. Every nuance of expression. Every emotion in her heart.
“Say you love me, too, Alexandra. Say that you’ll be mine. Until I take my last breath. And beyond.”
“Oh, yes, I do love you. So very much.” She smiled as hot, messy, happy tears streamed down her face. “I will marry you, Benedict. I will be yours forever.”
Epilogue
London, April 1894
