“Lord Rushington.” Benedict threw a glance at Miss Morningside as Lady Guthrie now turned her attention towards her. “And Miss Morningside. Goodness, what a difficult situation you found yourself in! It must have been very trying.”
Miss Morningside drew herself up a little, and Benedict caught the way that her fingers pulled more tightly around his arm.
“Yes, it has been exceptionally difficult, Lady Guthrie, made all the more so by those who would not listen to my, or my mother’s, explanations and instead, chose to listen to gossip, and gave us the cut direct thereafter.”
A little surprised by the slight edge to Miss Morningside’s words, Benedict looked directly at Lady Guthrie who, in turn, went a very delicate shade of pink. Her eyes snapped to Benedict and then returned to Miss Morningside.
“I can see how difficult that must have been,” she answered, sniffing lightly. “I am glad to know the truth of it now, of course.”
“I am certain that my mother would be glad to hear you say such a thing also.”
Lady Guthrie’s smile was a little tight.
“But of course. I shall make my way to her directly, I think.”
As she walked away, Benedict turned and saw that Miss Morningside’s face was a little red, though when she caught his eye, a small, wry smile spread across it.
“Forgive me for being so sharp.”
“I quite understand. I assume that she was one of the ladies who did not speak to you after what took place?”
Miss Morningside nodded, her eyes drifting back towards Lady Guthrie who had made her way across the room to speak with Lady Harbison.
“She has long been an acquaintance of my mother. When she gave me the cut direct and thereafter, refused to even acknowledge my mother, I saw the pain which her actions brought.”
“Which you did not permit her to forget.”
“Do you think I ought not to have done so?” Miss Morningside moved towards him a little more, her fingers curling about his arm, her green eyes a little wider still – and Benedict smiled.
“No, I do not. I am glad that you had the strength to speak so openly and honestly with her. I think that your mother will be glad of it also.”
Miss Morningside closed her eyes and let out a slow breath, smiling briefly before opening them again.
“I do hope so. Mother has been such a stalwart support and I did not like to see her so troubled.” Her smile returned. “It seems that all will be well again, however.” Tilting her head, she lifted one eyebrow gently. “Or, I should say, it seems as though it will be even better than before, in fact.”
Benedict chuckled, finding the desire to wrap his arms around her growing so strong that it was difficult indeed not to do so, even though they stood in the middle of Almack’s.
“I promise you, I shall do everything that I can to make it so, my dear lady.” The strength of his smile faded to tenderness as his hand found her free one and clasped it gently. “I do not think that I shall ever find as much happiness as I do when I am with you, Julia. You have brought such joy into my life, and I shall do all that I can to return such joy to you.”
Before she could answer, music began to swell. Stepping back, Benedict gestured to the dance floor – the very one where they had first faced each other, where he had ruined himself entirely in her eyes.
“The waltz, my Lady?”
Miss Morningside’s eyes were filled with smiles and, as she inclined her head in acceptance, Benedict’s heart filled itself with her once more. They stepped out together, ignoring everyone else who stood with them, and yet Benedict was all too aware of just how many people would be watching them. This evening had been one of revelation, and he was overwhelmed by how much happiness he had been left with.
The music began and Benedict swept Miss Morningside into his arms. It was not the first time that they had waltzed, but it felt as if he were standing up with her for the very first time. His first waltz had been with ‘Miss Smith’ but, on this occasion, he knew her exactly as she was. She was Miss Julia Morningside, the young lady who had stolen his heart away, and from whom he never wished to take it back again.
The warmth in her eyes drew him towards her, his breath coming all the quicker as the dance continued. The music flowed, ebbing, and rising again to a crescendo as he held her a little closer than was expected, seeing the soft glow of her eyes, and knowing what it spoke of.
It spoke of a tenderness, of a love which he trusted would never be extinguished. How much he cared for her! Even the thought of separating from her at the end of the evening was a dark one, and he hated the distance between them, every moment that they were apart.
I want to marry her.
The thought was not unexpected, and did not come with a great deal of surprise. The music continued and Miss Morningside looked up at him still, her smile growing gently.
“There is something in your face which I cannot quite make out,” she murmured, as the music began to slow, indicating the end of the dance. “What is it that you are thinking of?”
Benedict did not answer, but when the music finished, once they separated and then came together again, he led her away from the dance floor, but did not stop until he came to a door. Not knowing what was behind it, but glad that Miss Morningside was willing to go with him, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
“Miss Morningside.” They stood in a hallway, only a door away from the rest of the guests, but with enough privacy for them to speak alone. “Julia.”
“Yes, Rushington, I am here.”
His hand went to her face, his fingers running across her cheek, then dropping to the column of her throat. She did not say a word, but he heard her hitch of breath and smiled gently down at her. He would take no liberties here, would not push himself forward and demand anything from her. All he wanted to do was to speak from his heart.
“I love you, Julia.”
“As you have my love also.” One hand lifted to settle on his shoulder, the other still free by her side, and Benedict reached for it, wanting to have her fingers twine through his again. “There need not be any more apologies or the like, Rushington. I do not want to think of the past any longer.”
“Nor do I,” he promised her. “Instead, I want only to think of our future. You will recall how I told you that I proposed to Miss Davenport after only a short acquaintance?”
Miss Morningside nodded.
“I do recall you speaking of it, yes.”
“Then I want you to understand that, when I ask you to marry me, it is not with any of the same feelings which I had for Miss Davenport.” Miss Morningside’s eyes rounded, a gasp issuing from her mouth, but Benedict only squeezed her fingers a little more tightly. “I did not love Miss Davenport,” he told her, as her fingers tightened on his shoulder. “I see that now, because what I feel for you has such strength, such power, and such a hold over me, that I cannot break free of it. It has become a part of me, melding into my heart and filling it with nothing but you. The thought of stepping away from you this evening, wondering when I will next be in your company, brings me such dismay, it is almost a pain in my heart. Therefore, I want us to keep such separations to a minimum.”
Miss Morningside’s smile slowly began to lift, and Benedict’s heart lurched with the anticipation of overwhelming happiness.
“I would like to marry you, Julia. I want to take you as my bride, to make you my wife. I do not want to be held back from you any longer. I want you as mistress of our estate, to have a home and happiness with you, to build our lives together, and to build that upon the love we both share. What say you, Julia?” Moving a fraction closer, he put one hand on her waist. “Will you marry me?”
Miss Morningside closed her eyes, but her smile grew so quickly. It was as if the sunlight had broken through the night sky, through the roof itself, and shone down upon them. Benedict’s heart leaped, and he pulled her a little closer, only for Miss Morningside’s eyes to open and her hand to lift from his shoulder to press against his cheek.
“There is nothing which could separate me from you, Rushington. Nothing which would encourage me to refuse.” Her fingers trailed gently down his face until her hand wound around his neck instead. “I love you with all of myself. There is nothing that would make me happier than to be your wife.”
Benedict dropped his head and kissed her, allowing himself a moment of pure sweetness where there was nothing separating them. Passion roared to life, but he held it captive, refusing to permit it free. Such things were joys still to come, and for now, he wanted only to be present in this moment, contented in the knowledge that, very soon, the lady he loved would stand beside him as his bride.
“When?” Their kiss broke and Miss Morningside’s eyes fluttered open, her cheeks a little flushed. “When will we marry?”
“Just as soon as it can be arranged,” he promised her, his voice soft with tenderness. “I shall set to work on it come the morrow. Will that satisfy you, my love?”
Miss Morningside leaned into him, her head going to his chest, resting against the steady beat of his heart.
“Yes, my dear Rushington,” came her murmured reply. “But I shall count every day until I am able to stand up in church and make a promise to be your own for as long as I live.” Her head tilted and she smiled at him. “For that is what I shall do. I shall love you and hold you to my heart for every day that I draw breath. I love you, Rushington.”
“As I love you, Julia.”
I am so glad Julia got her happy ever after. I felt so bad for her!