“But sapphires and diamonds cost money,” Susannah wailed, collapsing against him. “You think money is important, though I know what you did, Willow Dorning.”
He’d paid his five pounds to procure a special license, the sum of the day’s important transactions.
“I fell in love with you,” Will said, holding Susannah’s hand out, so the sunlight caught the fire in her ring. “I fell in love with you years ago, like a loyal hound devotes himself to a worthy lady, but I also love you as a man loves the woman he was meant to be with. Will you marry me?”
Her ladyship commenced crying, scolding him for being such a ninnyhammer, kissing him, holding him tightly, then pushing him away to stare at her ring and tear up some more.
“I am an expert at interpreting communication that doesn’t rely on words,” Will said, getting in as many kisses of his own as he could. “I will take your response for a yes.”
“Yes, of course yes,” Susannah said, flinging herself at him again. “But you’re s-sending Cam to Oxford, and Ash was closeted with Nicholas this morning and then with Della, and you haven’t kept any of the reward for yourself, have you?”
“I’ve kept the best part of the reward for myself,” Will said, picking Susannah up and spinning around with her. They were in the Haddonfields’ family parlor, and if Will had had a tail, he’d probably have knocked over half the breakables in his unbounded glee.
“You must put me down,” Susannah said, looping her arms around Will’s neck and laying her head on his shoulder. “Ash told me. You’ve turned over all the money to your brothers, but, Willow, I don’t care. We can live in a shepherd’s hut with Georgette and I’ll be happy. I don’t want to wait for your fortunes to improve, I don’t want an understanding. I want a husband, and only you will do.”
Will kept hold of his treasure and sat with her in his lap on the red settee. “I quite agree. I’m the husband for you, you’re the wife for me, and I have a special license in my pocket. Name the day, my lady.”
She bawled in earnest, to the point that Georgette might have been concerned, except that shameless creature was paying another visit to Caesar in Quimbey’s spacious gardens.
“I’d say today, but I look a fright,” Susannah replied some minutes and more than a few wrinkles to Will’s cravat later. She sat beside Will, stroking his knee, alternately dabbing her eyes with his handkerchief and peering at her ring.
“You look beautiful, though I hope you won’t be too disappointed when I explain that we won’t be living in a shepherd’s hut.”
“I would, you know,” she said, all seriousness. “Though a hut might soon become crowded, between Georgette’s puppies and other developments.”
Everything inside Will came to a still point, poised to soar. “Susannah?”
She nodded, and a blush crept over cheeks. “It’s early days, emphasis on the days, but I have hopes. I feel different.”
Will scooped her back into his lap, his joy muting to the incandescent glow of a sunset that would become only more glorious as the tribulations of the day surrendered to the comfort of the night.
“My love, my love,” Will said. “We shall be married tomorrow, if you like, and then there’s a meeting we must discuss—perhaps you’d like to attend?—before we go on our wedding journey. We’ll need to find a property, and you must hear what I’d like to do with that property, if you’re amenable?”
Susannah squirmed around, so she was straddling Will’s lap. “Married tomorrow, Willow? Do you promise?”
Susannah had plans for him in the nearer term. Her gaze and the way she already had his cravat undone assured Will of her intentions.
“Tomorrow,” Will said. “And about this meeting…” As clothing fell away and was pushed aside, Will explained his venture to Susannah, and explained about dogs and the people who are devoted to them, and puppies, and his brothers playing a role, and then he explained—both with words and without—that he loved Susannah without limit and that, no matter what else befell them, when it came to loving her, he would never, ever be all done.
Not ever.
They were married the following afternoon, with a duke, a duchess, several earls, and any number of winking, well-dressed siblings in attendance, and both Georgette and Caesar barking their good wishes to the happy couple—the other happy couple.
Read on for an excerpt from
Gareth
“A Young Person to see you, milord.”
The old butler’s very lack of expression was eloquent: beyond doubt, a lady—unchaperoned and uninvited—awaited Gareth Alexander, Marquess of Heathgate, in the smaller formal drawing room.
Again.