She brought him close. “Don’t say it,” she said. “Don’t tell me how little you trust yourself, Edward. I’ve had enough of that. Tell me I can believe in you. That I can trust you. That you’ll never let me down.”
He let out a long breath. And then slowly, his lips came down to hers. “I…” His voice was rough. “I…”
“Because when I look at what you’ve done for me, I can believe in you. You saved my newspaper from the fire. You rescued me from prison. You gathered evidence so that I could prosecute a suit against your brother.”
His lips were rough against hers. “Free.”
“And I haven’t even mentioned the puppy-cannon.”
He kissed her. “Sweetest, I have another confession to make. This may be almost as bad as the last one.”
She pulled away, looking up at him, almost afraid to hear what he had to say.
He leaned down and whispered. “I don’t have a puppy-cannon.”
“No puppy-cannon?” she echoed.
“No. The physics of cannons are actually really unkind for dogs. I can’t endorse the idea, however cuddly it sounds in principle. Although I have to admit that it would make an excellent parliamentary tactic. You could sit in the Ladies’ Gallery. On my signal, when someone said something ridiculous…” He made a noise that sounded something like a rocket.
“Arf, arf,” she added, half-smiling. “Will it shock you to hear that I believe in you, even sans cannon? I do, Edward. I believe in you. And I wish you would, too.”
He let out a long, ragged breath. “I…I believe.” His voice was harsh. “I believe in us.” And then he pulled her to him.
His kiss consumed her. His hands were hot against her body. She wasn’t sure whether she undid his trousers, or if he did; she wasn’t sure if she wrapped her legs around his hips, or if he lifted her against the wall. But when he joined with her, his hands strong against her waist, she let herself fall into the feel of him, the sweep of his kiss. The thrust of him inside her, building—joining.
Roughly though they’d come together, her climax came slowly—not a sudden wave, but a slow, rolling gentleness, one that built until it overwhelmed her senses, taking over her. He came shortly after, thrusting hard, holding her in place against the wall as he did.
When he’d finished, he smiled. “God,” he rumbled. “It’s worth it. It’s all worth it, just for you.”
She couldn’t disagree.
He took her up to bed afterward.
Even that seemed odd and unfamiliar. She smiled at him as he helped her into her nightrail. She curled up in the bed. But she felt small in that vast expanse of linen. Even when he joined her, curling his body around her, all that empty, extra space surrounded them like hostile territory.
“We’ll make it work,” she told him. “If any two people can make this work, it will be us.”
He let out a breath, his hand slipping around her waist. “We will. But this isn’t what you wanted from your life.”
“There is some parity,” she told him. “I doubt you ever said to yourself, ‘I want nothing more than to marry a woman whose radical press garners death threats and arson attempts.’”
“A failure of imagination on my part.” He kissed her shoulder. “I had only to see you and know I wanted nothing else. You, on the other hand…”
“Everyone tempers their dreams over time, Edward. We’ll figure out the future tomorrow. For tonight…”
He let out a breath.
“For tonight,” Free said, “I finally want to have that conversation you promised me about how attractive I find your muscles.”
“Ah,” he rumbled against her chest. “Do you?”
She slid her hands down his side. “I do.”
And so she did.
AFTER THEY’D FINISHED the second round, after Free had fallen asleep by his side, Edward slid his arm around her. He could feel her chest rise and fall, slowly at first and then more slowly still.
It was so close to sweet that he could almost accept it as his future. So close, and yet so far.
Everyone tempers their dreams sometimes.
But not Free. He’d wanted to give her a thousand things. Sizing her dreams down to fit in his life had not been on his list. And yet that was what this all would mean, would it not? She’d live in this house, think about his tenants. Even if she moved her newspaper here, the estate would always make extra work for her, sapping her energy from the causes she loved.
Her breath evened out beside him, deepening, coming to a steady rhythm. The evening darkened from blue to purple to black.
“I don’t want you to compromise,” Edward said. “I want you unbowed.”
But Free was asleep and she didn’t even mutter in response.
“I love you,” Edward told her. “I want to give you your heart’s desire, not spend the rest of my life knowing that I stole your dreams from you.”