Page 108 of A Convenient Fiction

She leafed through the pages. The majority were in French, much to her chagrin. Thanks to Papa, she could speak the language a little, but she wasn’t able to read it. “I can’t make head or tail of these.” She gave them back to him. “I wish you would teach me proper French.”

His brows lifted. “Now?”

“Not now. Someday, I meant.” She rose from her chair, feeling cross and restless. “Pray don’t get up. I’m only going to the desk.” There was an escritoire in the corner, stocked with paper, pens, and ink. “I must write to Teddy and Aunt Charlotte.”

His gray gaze followed her as she crossed the room. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No.” She sat down at the desk and opened the top drawer, withdrawing several sheets of paper.

“Then why do I have the distinct feeling that you’re angry with me?”

“I’m not angry, I’m—” She broke off, muttering, “I don’t know what I am.”

Alex set aside his papers and came to the desk. He sank down on his haunches beside her chair. “Do you want to sell the distillery?”

She gazed down at him. He was so handsome. So exceedingly dear. She smoothed his hair from his brow, combing it back into place with her fingers. He went still. Trusting her. Allowing her to handle him as she pleased. “No. I don’t want to sell it. But you know what all of this means, don’t you? Another year to wait before there’s any kind of profit to be had. A year of nothing but expenses.”

“What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

The mere thought of it squeezed at her heart. Little more than a week of marriage, and she already couldn’t imagine her life without him. “Consulted with the bank, probably. Teddy and I spoke of borrowing against the property in order to resume production. But that was the farm in Dorset.”

“I don’t see why we can’t do the same with this property.”

“We don’t live here. We won’t be on hand to oversee things. And after Mr. Weatherwax’s misconduct…I don’t want to leave it to a solicitor, or someone like Monsieur Marchand. I couldn’t trust that they’d do what was right.”

He regarded her steadily. “Give me some time to come up with a workable solution.”

“It must be workable for all of us. Teddy and Aunt Charlotte, too.”

His mouth hitched into a smile. “That goes without saying.”

Laura’s heart swelled.

And she wanted to tell him that she loved him. That she was in love with him. But she couldn’t seem to work up the nerve. Not when she didn’t know whether or not he felt the same.

But life was about taking risks. Wasn’t that what she’d told him in Surrey? One couldn’t be a spectator, watching the parade go by. She certainly wasn’t. And she didn’t wish to start being one now, no matter how afraid she was of the consequences.

She touched his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes as she took her courage in her hands. “I love you.”

Alex flinched. For an instant, it seemed he might pull away from her touch. But he didn’t move. He stared at her, his big body as still as a marble statue.

“I love you,” she said again.

His throat convulsed on a swallow. “Laura—”

“You don’t have to say it back. And you don’t have to promise me anything. All I ask is that you be true to me. That’s all I want. To know that I’m yours, and that you’re mine. Just as you said on the beach at Margate.”

He covered her hand with his. “I am yours. Only yours.”

She managed a tremulous smile. “Well, then.”

“Well, then.” His eyes held hers, even as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Now that we understand each other.”

“Yes.”

After a long moment, he stood, drawing her to her feet along with him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that we’re on our honeymoon.”

“I haven’t forgotten either.”