Also like the luckiest dog.
“An understanding,” Will said. “I will not tender my suit to another, I will not share my kisses with another. I have insufficient means to offer you marriage at the moment, but I can give you my loyalty and fidelity, and assure you they’re yours for all time.”
Fidelity was an intimate concept, and Susannah clearly sought an intimate understanding. The part of Will that knew he ought to have lingered in the garden also knew he’d just complicated matters terribly. A woman who shared an understanding with a fellow might reasonably expect that fellow to collect any available rewards posthaste.
Susannah leaned forward, resting her cheek against Will’s knee. “We have an understanding, then, Mr. Dorning. I forget what else I was supposed to tell you. Something about Ash and Della.”
Oh, how quietly delighted she looked, nuzzling Will’s knee. He could almost feel the pleasure of their bargain purring through her.
“Ash and Della would suit, but he lacks means,” Will said. “A common condition in the Dorning family. I’ll address my own shortcomings in this regard as diligently as hard work and good luck allow.”
Will stroked Susannah’s back, his resolve settling into relief. Their understanding was a compromise, and he excelled at the reasonable compromise. He’d give Susannah his promise of a proposal, and all the pleasure she sought, and she’d give him time to earn a tidy amount of coin through decent, prudent means.
Susannah straightened and aimed a smile at Will that made him pity all the Romeos in their lonely gardens, baying at the moon, sonnet by hopeless sonnet.
Let those poor louts have their poetry, for he and Susannah had an understanding.
Fourteen
If Susannah married Will in June, their wedding would distract all the tabbies and gossips from whatever tempest Della’s Season provoked.
That cheering realization was Susannah’s last coherent thought before Will drew her to her feet and straight into his arms.
Their discussion had settled something for him. Susannah could feel the confidence in him where wary hesitation had been.
Perhaps her suggestion of a visit to the bear gardens had inspired his hopes of earning the rewards, perhaps her ready acceptance of his understanding had reassured him.
Unattached women were prone to insecurities, but single men weren’t to admit to the same vulnerability. Susannah kissed Will, rather than tell him how his offer of an understanding had reassured her.
“I could stand here all night kissing you,” Will said, “all Season. Do you keep lavender sachets in your wardrobe? You smell like a sunny garden, and all my best memories of Dorset.”
They’d live in Dorset, a beautiful place, and just far enough away from all of Susannah’s dear, meddlesome siblings.
“Tell me about Dorset,” she said, though one swift embrace had confirmed for Susannah that not all of Will’s attention was on pleasant memories and sunny gardens. Part of it was on her, and on what would happen in her bed.
Will’s hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs making gentle circles below her collarbone, and Susannah’s knees nearly gave out.
“Dorset is good land for sheep, and far from London’s stink and bustle. I love it, and I hope you do too. Tell me about your nightclothes, my love. Do they stay on and risk injury to their seams, or do we remove them now?”
From Dorset to endearments was quite a leap, but Susannah was ready for leaps. She’d spent years observing, considering, pondering, and soothing her spirits with Shakespeare, but now, she and Willow Dorning had an understanding.
“Let’s get you out of your finery,” Susannah said, for she was determined to enjoy herself, and waiting for Will to guess her thoughts and preferences was simply a waste of time. “Do you need help with your boots?”
He didn’t need help with anything, being a younger son who managed without a valet. Susannah’s role was to stand and marvel as waistcoat, shirt, boots, and stockings were handed to her one after another.
Willow Dorning was fit, as an active man would be, a man who preferred country life to Town idleness. As he shed each article of clothing—all sober, well-made Town attire—he seemed to relax, and become more the calm, confident fellow who’d taken Susannah’s situation in hand years ago and steered her past gossip and meanness with a smile, a bow, a wink, and a minuet.
Perhaps a special license would be better. A few weeks was plenty of time to find some missing dogs, collect rewards, and arrange a quiet wedding.
“You are impressive,” Susannah said, when only Will’s breeches remained on his person. “And you are not shy.”
“But you are both shy and impressive,” Will said, leaning over to blow out all but one candle. “Come here, Susannah.”