Page 73 of Dare it all for Love

“Well,” he said, still breathless. “That was worth waiting for, though I’m not certain I could have lasted another day.”

Florence gave a helpless snort of amusement and covered her mouth with her hand. It was hardly very ladylike. But Henry only gazed at her, looking as besotted as she felt, and she knew it didn’t matter. She could always be herself with this man. She would never need to mind her tongue or worry about being ladylike, because he loved her.

“It certainly was worth waiting for, Henry.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek with a finger. “You were worth waiting for too, love. I’m so glad I did, so glad I didn’t just marry the next girl who came along but waited for you to come and unearth my poor discarded heart.”

“You are a very patient man, Mr Stanhope,” she agreed, her chest too full of everything she felt to express it with such pretty words. So instead she kissed him, speaking softly between each tender press of her lips. “I love you. I have loved you. I will always love you.”

Florence laid her head on his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart and thinking about the rather eventful few weeks they’d lived through. An awful lot had happened in a short time.

“No regrets?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Only one,” she said with a sigh.

She looked up to see his quizzical expression.

“I failed my dare,” she explained.

“Ah, yes. A pity that, but you set out to accomplish it, and you did get me to the altar, which I believe was your intention.”

She brightened at that. “Yes. Yes, it was, so… so perhaps it worked, even if I didn’t keep to the letter of it.”

“I should say it did,” he remarked gravely.

“Oh, good.” Florence laid her head back down again with a contented sigh as a rumble of laughter vibrated through his chest. “You saved my life,” she said quietly.

His arms tightened about her. “You came to save mine. I was rather occupied with fighting that brute off as I fell into the hallway, but I shall never forget the sight of you standing on the landing, the sun slanting across your beautiful face and the pistol glinting in your hand.”

Florence made a disgruntled sound. “For all the good it did you. Mama shot him, not me.”

“She was protecting you, as you would protect our daughter if it were necessary, and I know if she had not, you would have. You’ve never needed a dare to get what you wanted, my love. You would dare anything for anyone you cared for. I admire your spirit and your bravery, Florence. I love how bold you are.”

Florence sat up and stared down at her husband, a strange sensation in her chest of hope and optimism and excitement for everything to come. “We are going to be disgustingly happy, you do know that?”

He nodded, his expression grave but his eyes alight with pleasure. “I do. Though I insist we intersperse the happiness with the occasional passionate row, for I suspect making up afterwards will be extremely satisfying.”

“A deal, Mr Stanhope,” she said, sitting up and offering her his hand as if to seal a bargain.

Henry took her hand and shook it. “A deal, Mrs Stanhope.”

“Oh,” she said, delighted by the sound of that. “Mrs Stanhope. I like that.”

Henry’s fingers tightened around hers and he tugged her back down until she sprawled across his chest.

“So do I, love,” he said with a wicked smile. “So do I.”

Epilogue

Dearest Greer,

Of course I want you to come and stay. I miss you dreadfully, though I admit it surprises me to say so, and don’t make faces – which I know full well you are doing – because we drive each other to distraction, and you cannot deny it. I am afraid I simply cannot let you come at the moment, though. I am so sorry.

Daire’s friends are here, Baron de Ligne and Mr Lane Fox. I’m afraid the baron is rather out of sorts and, much as it pains me, I do not believe it is a suitable household for an unmarried lady. Yes, darling, I know that makes me sound like great Aunt Maud, but truly, I don’t mean to be a bore. It’s just not a good time. I swear I will send for you the moment they are gone.

Please forgive me.

―Excerpt of a letter from Elspeth Kelburn, Viscountess Roxborough to her sister Miss Greer Cadogan (daughters of Mrs Bonnie and Mr Jerome Cadogan).