The room was dark as pitch when Margery woke. And yet there was not a single moment of confusion. She knew exactly where she was. And who she was with.
She smiled, tightening her arm about Daniel’s middle. His breathing had the deep and even cadence of sleep, his heart beating strong under her ear. He smelled of soap and fresh air and warm man. It was exactly where she wanted to be.
She lay like that for a time, listening to his breath as it joined in chorus with the faint sound of the waves outside her window, feeling the heavy weight of his arm about her shoulder as he held her to him even in sleep. The events of the previous day played over in her mind. What gifts she had been given. To be free of the blackmailer, to learn that Daniel had not had a part in Aaron’s death, to know that Aaron had not been alone when he’d died, were all like balms to her soul. And now Daniel was back in her arms. And she’d be damned if she would let him go again.
She felt it the moment he awoke. His breathing changed, his body stirring against hers, his hair scraping the pillow. And then his utter stillness as he realized where he was. She tightened her arm about him, not about to let him pull away.
“Margery?”
His voice was deep and rough with sleep. And so dear it brought tears to her eyes.
“Yes, Daniel?”
“You—are you well?”
She smiled into his chest. Sweet man, to think of her before he had full command of his faculties. “Better than well,” she murmured.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he mumbled. She could hear the fight in his voice to wake fully. And then a sigh. “I should leave.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
His body shuddered beneath hers, as if her words brought him actual pain. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
She smiled into his chest. He had yet to remove his arm from around her. If anything, his grip had unconsciously tightened. He didn’t want to part, either. Though, stubborn man that he was, he wouldn’t admit it.
She had wondered all those weeks ago who might heal his heart. But the answer had been there in front of her all along: she would.
“On the contrary,” she answered him. “I am about to make this extremely simple.” She rolled from him and rose from the bed, then moved about the room lighting lamps. At one point he made to get up and she gave him a warning look.
“Don’t move from that bed,” she said.
He could have easily left, regardless of her command. Despite his leg, he was still incredibly strong, and there would be nothing she could have done to stop him had he truly wanted to go.
Instead he obediently settled back against the pillows. She smiled and continued, not stopping until the room was as bright as day. She was through with him hiding away in the shadows.
Finally she turned back to him. He was watching her silently, still settled against the pillows, an air of uncertainty and sadness wrapped about him like a cloak. Well, she was about to do her damnedest to take as much of that sadness and uncertainty away as she could.
“I don’t want you to go to London.”
He blinked. “I assure you, I don’t, either. But I do think it’s for the best.”
“Best for whom?”
That seemed to trip him up. His brow furrowed. She smiled and returned to the bed, sliding across the mattress until they were close enough to touch. Which she did. Her fingers trailed along his damaged cheek, feather light, tracing his scars. He sucked in his breath and grabbed her hand, trapping it in place. In his eyes were confusion and longing and fear. She smiled, tears burning her eyes.
“I can understand you wanting to leave when you thought you might have had a part in Aaron’s death. But you can have no reason now. Especially as I believe I have finally found the perfect woman for you to take as a wife.”
His frown deepened. “You needn’t make certain our deal is completed. It was foolish to go into it, considering our—attraction to one another.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied. “I think it was the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done. It made me face something important.”
She waited, to see if he would take the bait. He very nearly didn’t. She could see in his eyes that he was fighting his curiosity with everything in him. But eventually—finally—curiosity won out.
“And what was that?”
Her smile grew. “That I needn’t spend my life alone any longer. That it’s not dishonoring Aaron to move on. That I can love again.”
She should probably be nervous just then. She was all but admitting she loved him. He might not reciprocate her feelings. He might reject her. Hadn’t he told her that he didn’t want to enter into a marriage with someone he could love? His whole purpose in hiring her, after all, was to find a wife who did not want to share with him any of the softer emotions.
But in that moment, with her heart so full she thought it would burst out of her chest, as she watched the spark of something almost like hope ignite in his eyes, she felt only joy and a certainty that what she was doing was right.
Her hand was still trapped against his scarred cheek. She brought her other up to cradle his face. “I love you, Daniel,” she said.
He swallowed hard, his eyes gazing into hers, the fear in them nearly extinguishing the joy. “You needn’t say that, you know,” he said gruffly, even as his hands came behind her back to draw her closer. “I know you must be emotional over learning the truth of Waterloo, must be feeling relief, gratitude even—”
“You silly, stubborn, wonderful man,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. He shuddered under her touch.
“While those particular events have given me the greatest relief and happiness,” she continued gently, “my love for you didn’t spring from that moment. Rather, it has been building, steadily and surely, over the past weeks. And if you are still in doubt,” she said, smiling, “you may return to the front hall. Beside the door should still be the bag I had packed for the express purpose of hying off to London after you. Which I would have done had you not stopped me in my mad dash to secure a carriage.”
His jaw dropped. “You were coming after me?”
“Of course.” She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his own. “I could not have you marrying another, after all.”
Still, he gaped at her. “You wish to marry me?”
“I do.” When he continued to stare at her in incomprehension, she brushed an unruly lock of hair back from his forehead and smiled tenderly. “I know you’ve been hurt, Daniel. I know your trust has been damaged, and that you had no wish to marry a person who you might be able to care for. But I swear to you, I won’t hurt you. I love you.” And then, her heart in her throat: “Marry me.”
* * *
Daniel wanted to say yes. With everything in him he wanted to say yes. Margery loved him? Never in his dreams had he dared to hope that a woman such as she could love him.
And he loved her, so much it hurt.
Why, then, did he pause? Because Erica had broken his heart? Because a woman had looked in horror at his leg? Because his despicable cousin had made him feel unlovable for so many years? And in an instant he saw it so clearly: he was an absolute idiot.
Margery was his whole heart. And he would be a fool to not grab tight at the chance of a life with her.
The breath left him in a rush and he gazed into her eyes, not caring that his heart was in his own. “I love you.”
Joy filled her beloved features, and he found himself grinning, though tears sprang to his eyes. He turned his head and kissed her palm. “God, I love you,” he murmured. “So very much.”
“Daniel,” she said, his name exploding from her, suffused with the very essence of her heart.
“I love your smile and your laugh,” he continued, the words tumbling from him now that they’d been loosened. “I love your kindness and your strength, your stubbornness and your fierceness.” He shook his head in amazement as his gaze scoured her face. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve every happiness in life, Daniel,” she said, certainty imbuing her voice with a brilliance that touched his very soul. Then, her tone dropping to a mere whisper, “Do I—could I—make you happy, Daniel?”
“God, yes.” He groaned, pulling her to him. He claimed her lips with his, imbuing his kiss with every bit of love he had for her. She gasped into his mouth, her arms going around his neck, her body pressed to his. He ached to lose himself in her.
But there was still one small bit of him that held on to fear.
He pulled away, just enough to leave a hairbreadth of space between their lips. “Margery, you still haven’t seen—you might not wish to after—”
She placed a finger over his lips, a soft smile lighting her eyes. “Why don’t you let me prove to you that your worries are for nothing,” she murmured. Her fingers trailed down to his cravat, loosened it. She pulled the silk free, worked at his waistcoat, pushing it off his shoulders, made short work of the buttons on his shirt.
All the while he watched her, the tension in him growing, both desire and fear churning together. Ah, God, he loved her so damn much. But their entire future together could hinge on what she thought of him when she saw his body. He wanted her. But if she turned away from him, it would destroy him.
She pulled his shirt from his breeches. He waited, breath stuck in his chest, for her to pull the material up. Then…
Nothing.
She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “Daniel, do you want me to stop?”
Did he? Could he stand making love to her for the rest of his life in the dark? Never seeing the glory of her body, the look of passion in her eyes when she came undone in his arms?
Could he live the rest of his life having her think that he didn’t trust her fully? Because he knew in that moment he did. He trusted her with everything in him.
She watched him, her teeth worrying her delicious full bottom lip, ready to stop then and there if he wished it. In answer, he rolled from the bed, stood on unsteady legs, reached for the bottom of his shirt, and pulled it up and over his head. And then, before he could think better of it, he unfastened his breeches and, taking a deep breath, pushed them down his legs, his smalls quickly following, and kicked them off.
In for a penny, he thought a bit madly.
“Oh.” The word escaped her on a breath, and he flinched. His mind, prepared for flight, screamed at him to turn around, to cover himself. But his heart, full of love for her and the hope that she could love him as he was, kept him in place. He raised his chin and looked at her.
And his legs nearly gave out at the love and desire illuminating her face.
“Daniel,” she whispered, her eyes roving his body with hunger. Stunned, he could only watch mutely as she moved across the bed and stood before him. The one sane bit of his brain still working told him he should be feeling shame, should be feeling horribly vulnerable and exposed. He was naked, after all, with every flaw laid out for her to see. He had never wanted to be put in this position ever again, to be in someone else’s hands, to invite rejection and disgust.
But as Margery looked up at him, her eyes clear and full of love, a small smile curving her lips, he could only feel an overwhelming trust in her.
She licked her lips as her gaze returned to his body. “Can I touch you?” Her voice was achingly gentle.
“God, yes,” he managed.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she reached for him. Her fingers trailed over his chest, tracing each scar with reverence, down over his abdomen, to his leg.
She paused again, looked up at him with a question in her eyes. But his fear was gone. Taking her hand, he guided it to his scar.
Her fingers were light, just barely tracing the mangled flesh. “Does this hurt you?”
“No,” he managed, his breath hitching in his chest.
Then, to his shock, she dropped to her knees before him—and pressed her lips to his scar.
“Margery.” Tears clogged his throat, burned his eyes. He pulled her to her feet, wrapped his arms about her, pressed his face into her neck.
“I love you,” she whispered, her hands trailing over his bare back. “I love you.”
And then her mouth was under his.
He didn’t know who began the kiss. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the glowing in his heart that had burned away the last remaining bit of distrust and fear and anger. What mattered was this woman in his arms, who was the most important thing in this world to him.
His fingers fumbled on her chemise, dragging it up and over her head. He longed to lose himself in her. He ached, with everything in him, to join with her.
But he wouldn’t. Not yet, not until he’d seen his fill of her.
Which, he realized as he stepped back from her, he might never do.
She was glorious. He swallowed hard as his gaze skimmed down her body. Every inch of her was soft and luscious: full breasts, a rounded stomach, the flare of wide hips.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
And he would burst into flames if he didn’t hold her in his arms that very second.
She seemed to be of the same mind. Stepping back into his arms, her hands were everywhere at once, roaming over his body with a desperation that he felt was mirrored deep in his soul. Their kisses were frantic now, and they fell back on the bed in an inelegant heap, arms and legs tangled.
“I love you,” he murmured as his lips trailed down, over her breasts, needing to say it, needing her to understand how deeply he felt it.
“I love you,” he repeated as he kissed down over the glorious, trembling fullness of her belly.
“I love you,” he whispered as his mouth found the thatch of curls between her legs.
She gasped, her hands finding his hair as he loved her there. She tasted of the sweetest drink, the most heady wine. He drank of her until she was writhing beneath him, until her cries filled the air and her thighs trembled on either side of his face. Only then did he rise above her and slide with a groan into her welcoming heat.
There was no need for words. Every kiss, every caress was full of their love for one another. Their breaths mingled, their sighs becoming one. And when they found their completion, they found it together.
* * *
“I never did answer your question.”
Daniel’s voice, thick with sleep, pulled Margery from the call of slumber. She smiled, snuggling farther into his embrace, breathing in the warmth of him. “Mmm, and what question would that be?”
“Never tell me, madam,” he said in mock outrage, “that you have forgotten your proposal of marriage.”
“Oh, did I propose?” she queried innocently. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“Minx,” he growled, shifting them so she lay on top of him.
She giggled, then moaned as he pulled her down for a kiss.
“Haven’t changed your mind, I hope,” he murmured against her lips.
She very nearly laughed and considered teasingly asking him to persuade her a bit more. But she was through with waiting to start her life with this man. “No.” She breathed deeply, brushing his mouth with hers, trailing her lips over to his cheek, raining soft kisses over his scar with each sentence she spoke. “I haven’t changed my mind. If anything, I want you more. I want to bear your children and grow old with you. I want to spend the rest of my days making you happy. I love you, Daniel.”
He shuddered under her touch. Then, groaning, he dove his hands into her unbound hair and brought her lips back to his for a soul-shattering kiss. “You’re my life, Margery.”
The emotion in his voice had tears springing to her eyes. How was it possible to be so blessed? “Is that a yes then?” she asked, her voice husky.
“Yes.” The word exploded from him on a joyous breath. The first of many more, with her at his side.