He stood a few yards away, adjusting his cuffs. As he did so, the little diamond-eyed beetles winked at her, as if the sun were reflecting a secret between just the two of them.
“Well, Mr. Davenant,” Ginny said bravely. “You look tired. Never say the ceremony has worn you out.”
“Not the ceremony. I was up last night watching for a meteor shower.”
“There were meteors showering last night?” She unfolded her fan and waved it languidly across her face. “I heard of no such thing, and I read the astronomical section of the newspaper with regularity.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “You’ll notice I didn’t say I saw any meteors. I was given false information.”
And what deliciously false information it had been. Come watch the meteor showers with me, her note had said. He’d helped her clamber out of her hotel window, much the way he’d helped her escape her bedroom when they were younger. They’d laughed and he’d taken her up a hill, spread out a blanket for her, and they’d lain next to each other, joined only by their fingertips.
There had been no meteors. They’d not even seen a single shooting star. But he’d held her hand and told her jokes. As they lay in the warm night, she’d breathed out the last of her bitterness. They’d made mistakes. They’d hurt one another. But he was still the man she wanted to hold her hand in the dark of night.
“Entrapped by false reports of incoming asteroids,” Ginny said demurely. “How awful. I hope you hold the fellow who misled you accountable.”
He shrugged. “I hope I do, too. Now, would you be willing to come on a walk with me?” He held out his arm to her.
Only her fingertips touched his elbow. But there was no only to it. He was so warm; he drew her eye. He smiled. She smiled. The whole world could see them smiling at each other.
Well. Ginny curled her fingers into the crook of his arm. If the whole world could see them smiling, it could watch them leave together.
He waited until they’d left the crowd behind, until the cobblestone streets of Chapton had given way to a dusty tree-lined track, before he spoke.
“I’ve sold three of my railway lines,” he said.
“No! But why?”
He shrugged. “They’ve been a fabulous investment. They made me my money back one hundred to one. But anything that fabulous is inherently risky. I started thinking, what would happen if Parliament changed its mind about railways? What would happen if it were discovered that the steam engine had a fatal flaw? What if someone invents some way to transport goods more economically by…by, I don’t know, hot air balloons. All my money would be in trains. And then it would be gone.” He glanced at her. “I procured the buyers over the last few weeks. I put almost half of the proceeds into a tinned-goods manufacturer, and another half into the five percents.”
“The five percents.” She stopped and looked at him. “Why on earth did you do that?”
“Because I wanted you to know.” He set his finger under her chin and slowly, slowly tilted her face up. “When you marry me, I want you to know that your future is secure. Always. It’s what I should have offered you from the start: that if you give your heart into my keeping, I will never let you down.”
Ginny swallowed and leaned into the palm of his hand. It wasn’t just her cheek that he warmed; it was all of her, from head to toe. “We’ve both made mistakes.”
“I made a worse one,” he said baldly. “I was so fixed on how much I wanted you that I never stopped to ask myself what you wanted.”
“Surely, I could have—”
“Goddamn it, Ginny. Stop trying to make me feel better.” He touched his thumb to her nose. “Let me apologize to you as you deserve.” His fingers were tracing her face, as if he could pull the curve of her smile into the palm of his hand.
And then he let go of her and got down on his knees. “Ginny,” he said, “I love you. I have always loved you. By some miracle, you appear to…to not be indifferent to me. If you would trust me with your heart, I promise from this moment forward that I will do my best to deserve it.”
“I—”
He held up one hand. “No,” he said. “Don’t answer yet. There’s something I have to show you. Do you know why I wanted to hold the opening ceremony in Chapton?”
“Because it’s halfway between Castingham and London?”
“No. It’s because my parents own a house here. After my father sold the house in Chester-on-Woolsey, he purchased the one here. My father says he’ll give it to me as a wedding present, but first, he insists on meeting the bride. D’you see that iron gate just down the road?”