Page 106 of Make Mine a Marquess

“Around the corner and second room to the right. You have done such wonders for us, Miss Dawson. We hate to see you leave.”

The woman gave her a knowing look that Phoebe found thoroughly confusing at that moment. Phoebe clutched her reticule as she made her way from the room.

Her heart pounded, part in anticipation and part in dread, as she turned a corner and entered another room. Dressed in shirtsleeves, Landon sat in a rocking chair with a book in hand, a dozen young children sitting at his feet, engrossed as he read “Rumpelstiltskin.” His back was to her as he read. She stood still, listening to his familiar voice, her gaze returning to his dark tousled hair as he leaned forward to show the children an illustration from the book. Their young faces lit up.

She’d heard the story. It was a favorite among Grimms’ fairy tales. But she’d never heard it read the way the marquess read it. The children sat cross-legged on a carpet, their faces rapt.

She, too, was enraptured. She’d never found him more attractive.

One of the older children, a blond six-year-old girl, noticed her and pointed. “Miss Dawson! Come listen to the story from the mister!”

Landon turned. Their gazes met from across the room. His was warm and welcoming. Phoebe’s heart fluttered in her chest.

He looked back at the children. “We will finish the story after you eat.”

Immediate whining ensued.

Landon held up a hand and smiled. “If the mistress says you all ate your vegetables, then I will read another story.”

The children sprang up and ran into the next room.

Landon stood, his dark eyes meeting hers. She found it difficult to breathe.

“I’m surprised to find you here,” Phoebe said. Had he initially showed up at the charity looking for her? Why?

“I came here in hopes of finding you,” he said, answering her thoughts. “Then I found something else.”

“The children?” Her voice was a whisper.

“Yes. And a broken casement.”

Of all the things he could say, it was the most unexpected. As well as the most heart-wrenching. He’d come for her, then found more. Only a man who truly loved a woman would search for her and then stay and fix a broken window and read to a group of impoverished children. All previous doubts of his sincerity melted away.

Another notion became certainty. “You’re the anonymous donor.” It was a statement.

He looked away. But not before she could discern the truth.

“Tell me.”

His reply was modest but heartfelt. “Why have a fortune if you can’t do good with your money?”

She let out a sigh. “Oh, Robert.”

He met her gaze once more. This time, she saw longing and loneliness in his dark eyes, the same emotions that plagued her. He was drowning and she wanted nothing more than to save him.

He approached and stopped before her. “Phoebe, I understand I’m not worthy. The way I treated you was unforgivable. But please know that I love you with all my heart and I won’t stop trying to prove myself and right my wrongs. Please don’t go to Scotland.” He knelt on one knee, took her hand, and looked into her eyes. “Make me the happiest of men instead and marry me.”

Her heart thrummed in her chest. “Yes,” she whispered.

His grin was as devastating as his proposal. He stood and swept her into his arms and kissed her, his lips softly urgent. She’d missed him so much, and need unfurled inside her—a deep ache coupled with a deep longing she was thrilled to unleash. She kissed him back with all her pent-up love.

Children clapped and cheered. Phoebe looked over Landon’s shoulder to see a group of young, flushed faces as they peeked into the room.

The blond girl called out, “Yay! Miss Dawson and the lordy are getting married!”

Phoebe’s heart tugged in her chest. “Yes, we are.”

More children appeared, crowding the doorway. “You might as well all come in,” Landon said. Seconds later, children rushed into the room and circled them.