Page 85 of The Governess and the Rogue

She cast him a bleak look. But she made no reply.

Jack’s pulse quickened on a ridiculous surge of hope. He hadn’t realized until this moment how anxious he’d been all evening. How dratted uncertain as he’d watched her dancing, all the while fearing that she was slipping away from him. That he’d lose his chance for happiness. That he’d lose her.

No battle he’d fought had been more worth winning. No stakes ever so high.

“It doesn’t have to end tonight,” he said abruptly.

Bea betrayed no reaction. “You propose our fake engagement continue? Until when this time? Until the end of your parents’ visit? Until you move in to the Priory?” Bitterness crept into her words. “Or is this ruse to go on indefinitely? To save you from future pursuers, perhaps?”

“Don’t be daft,” Jack said. “I’m not that selfish. And I’m not proposing any of that. I’m simply…”

She looked at him fully. “What?”

He offered her a brief, lopsided smile. “Proposing.”

* * *

Bea stared at him, frozen where she stood. The cool evening breeze whispered over her bare arms and throat, making gooseflesh rise on her skin. Her heart beat so heavily it was in her ears. She thought she hadn’t heard him correctly.

Jack looked back at her steadily. A lock of blond hair had fallen forward over his brow. “By the way,” he added, “it hasn’t been a lie. None of it. Not since we docked at Southampton.”

She shook her head. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

Jack continued, explaining, “You asked me then if I meant to make my proposal in earnest.”

“And you didn’t answer,” she reminded him. Her voice seemed to catch somewhere in her throat.

“I did,” he said. “Not in words, perhaps but in the next moment, I was introducing you to my brother and sister-in-law as my fiancée. If that wasn’t an answer⁠—”

Her hand fell from the rail. She took a step back. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it out that you felt this way all along.”

Jack caught her gently by the wrist, arresting her step. “Not all along,” he said. “Not at first. It wasn’t until after we formulated our plans that my feelings started to change.”

Bea didn’t understand him. Indeed, she didn’t understand any of it. “Why?”

“Why? Because you’re brave, principled, infuriatingly sensible, but with a keen sense of the ridiculous. Because you’re beautiful⁠—”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he said with a trace of fierceness. “With your hair in its crown of plaits. With your gown muddy. With your eyes blazing as you faced down Mrs. Dimsdale and the rest of them.”

Her throat convulsed on a swallow. “Jack…”

“I bought something for you today,” he said. Releasing her wrist, he reached into the inner pocket of his tailcoat.

Bea watched, stunned, as he withdrew a small jeweler’s box. He opened the lid to reveal the engagement ring within.

And her heart stopped. It simply stopped.

“This is where I was when my parents arrived,” he said. “At a jeweler’s shop in Maidenbridge, hoping against hope that the village would have something that might do you justice.” Taking her hand, he slid the ring onto her finger.

It was a delicate band of gold, with a single, rose-cut diamond at its center. A large diamond.

“Oh my,” Bea breathed.

Jack’s expression softened. He cupped her face with his hand. His thumb brushed over the curve of her cheek. “Would it be so terrible to be Mrs. Jack Beresford?” he asked. “To give up your ambitions for a new position and throw in your lot with me at the Priory? As my wife?”

Tears stung at the back of her eyes as she lifted her gaze to his. “Not terrible,” she whispered. “It would be a dream come true.”