Page 162 of A Modest Independence

“You were noble. And I know how much it cost you. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way you looked when you left my room that night at Shepheard’s. The memory of it has plagued me every day that we’ve been apart.”

“I hope that isn’t why you came back.”

“What? Guilt, do you mean? No. It was love that brought me back. I don’t believe anything else in the world could have persuaded me.”

He lowered his forehead to rest against hers. “I do love you, Jenny. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. It’s rather a burden to put on you, being loved so much by a man like me.”

“I think I can bear it. The real question is whether you can bear being loved by me. I have it on good authority that I’m a managing female. An eccentric one as well. Our marriage isn’t likely to be a pattern card of perfection. Do you suppose you could be happy?”

In answer, Tom bent his head and captured her mouth with his. He kissed her softly, deeply, drawing her close in a fierce embrace.

Jenny brought her arms around his neck, returning his kisses with equal fervor. The waves lapped up around their feet, but she didn’t mind it. Tom didn’t seem to mind it, either. It was only the sound of Paul and Jonesy’s furious barking that finally roused them from their embrace. The two dogs were running up the cliff path back to the house, making the most tremendous racket as they went.

“Well,” Jenny said as she caught her breath.

Tom looked down at her, smiling a foolish, lopsided smile. “Well.”

“Do you suppose Helena and Mr. Thornhill have returned from the village?”

“They might have done. Would you like to go up and see?”

“Not yet.”

“Good.” His arms tightened around her. “I’m reluctant to let you go.”

“Then don’t,” she said softly.

He kissed her again. And then again, before lifting his head to look into her eyes. “We’ll have to go up eventually. Lady Helena and Thornhill will want to hear our news. No doubt they’ll expect us to set a date.”

A jolt of alarm brought Jenny back to her senses. “Gracious. I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t suppose you have a preference?”

“The sooner the better,” he said. “I can’t be without you any longer. Unless, of course, you’d prefer a large wedding with all of the traditional trimmings—”

“Indeed not. The very idea is enough to put me off my food.” She smoothed his waistcoat. “I’d far rather marry at the registrar’s office as Mr. Thornhill and Lady Helena did. That way, we needn’t wait for weeks on end for the banns to be called.”

“An excellent idea. We can return to London for our honeymoon. And then…”

“What?”

He smiled down at her. “The next adventure begins.”

An answering smile spread over Jenny’s face. “The next adventure.” She stood up on the toes of her boots to press another sweet kiss to his lips. “I rather like the sound of that.”

London, England

September, 1860

“I have a wedding gift for you,” Tom said.

Jenny’s cheek was pillowed on his bare chest, her arm curved round his midsection. She was boneless with exhaustion. “Our wedding was yesterday.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “I know. I meant to give it to you afterward, but we’ve been rather…distracted.”

“Distracted?” A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “That’s certainly one way of putting it.”

From the moment they’d returned from the registrar’s office, they’d been unable to keep their hands off of each other. Kisses in the carriage on the drive to Half Moon Street had led to Tom carrying her over the threshold and—by some miracle—up the stairs to their bedroom.

Jenny had had no mother to tell her what to expect on her wedding night. No elder sister or kindly aunt. But she wasn’t wholly ignorant of the marital act.