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He shook his head. She was wrong—but could he blame her for thinking it? If she was special then he wouldn’t insist on secrecy. And after seeing the narrow-eyed look on his housekeeper’s face earlier that evening, surely the need for secrecy was now academic.
He was still thoughtful next morning and when Ashley woke she began to make wordless and urgent love to him—and he gave a laugh of delight as he twisted her beneath him.
Afterwards, she leaned over him, her hair tickling his face. ‘That was the most gorgeous thing in the world,’ she whispered.
‘You say that every time.’
‘That’s because it’s true.’ She hesitated. ‘You’re a wonderful lover, Jack.’
He heard the soft tremor of truth in her voice and her slight hesitation—and yet her shyness made the compliment more profound than any he’d ever been given before. She was so sweet, he thought suddenly. So soft and gentle. He had never known such moments of contentment as these spent lying in her arms—or imagined that he might ever find this kind of peace. So what was he going to do about it? he wondered with a sharp pang of conscience. For a while, he l
ay looking up at the ceiling—before getting out of bed and going over to take something from the small safe his lawyers insisted he keep.
Sleepily, Ashley watched him, remembering the blue scarf she had once found tucked away in a walnut bureau and which she had never asked him about. But that moment had long gone and, besides, it no longer seemed important. The only thing which mattered was this incredible thing they had between them. Was it love? On her part, certainly—but Jack never, ever gave his feelings away. Maybe that was yet another legacy of army life. And suddenly all her thoughts were forgotten as Jack approached, holding something tightly within his clenched hand.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her. ‘I have something I want to give you, Ashley.’
The expression on his face made her heart skip a beat. It was a look she could never have described if she had lived to be a hundred and wouldn’t have dared to—just in case she had misread it. She looked down at his fist. ‘Wh-what is it?’
‘This.’ Slowly, his fingers unfurled to reveal a ring lying in the very centre of his palm. A rectangular diamond, surrounded by a glittering band of smaller stones and set in platinum. It was an old-fashioned ring—and it might not have been to everybody’s taste, but Ashley loved it on sight. She stared up into his face.
‘It belonged to my mother,’ he said in answer to her unspoken question. ‘And I want you to have it.’
Ashley swallowed. ‘Why?’ she whispered.
‘Can’t you guess why?’
‘I can try, Jack—but I’m worried that it might be the wrong guess. A ring is a… strange present to give a lover,’ she added shakily. ‘Even I, with my scant experience of the opposite sex, know that it’s a gesture which could so easily be misinterpreted.’
‘I don’t think there can be any misinterpretation in this case.’ He reached across and took her hand in his. ‘But just to make entirely sure that you understand. what if I told you that I love you, and that some day I want to marry you? That you have rebuilt my troubled soul brick by brick and that I can’t contemplate life without you?’
His quietly passionate words felled her and she stared at him as if waiting for him to burst out laughing and tell her that it was nothing but a joke and that the ring was really from a cracker. But the expression in his black eyes was deadly serious. ‘Jack—’ But she was trembling so much that she couldn’t continue.
‘You’re shocked?’
‘Of course I’m shocked.’
‘But not surprised, surely? And before you answer that, Ashley—just think about it. Ask yourself whether we don’t seem to fit each other like a hand inside a glove. Whether the term soulmates—which up until recently I’d always scorned—shouldn’t be applied to us. It’s been like that between us from the very beginning—that sense of looking into someone’s eyes and feeling as if you’ve suddenly come home. Hasn’t it?’
Ashley nodded. She was having to swallow very hard in an attempt to hang onto her composure, and she looked down at the ring—afraid to meet his burning gaze for fear that she would dissolve and make a fool of herself. Because hadn’t his words crystallised all her wishes and dreams—the ones she’d kept hidden, even from herself? Hadn’t they given her a glimpse of some happy world which she knew existed but which she’d never felt part of before? Not until now. Now she could dare to dream.
‘Oh, Jack,’ she whispered. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—but I don’t need a ring to love you. You see, I think I’ve always loved you.’
‘Sweet Ashley.’ Even her words of love were more generous than he deserved. He took her hand and rubbed its palm with his thumb so that the urge to lift her eyes to his was irresistible. ‘Totally without guile or artifice. Strong and dignified in spite of everything which fate has thrown at you. Don’t you know how much I admire your spirit? Your ability to speak the truth without fear and your remarkable powers of calm—you who can soothe a man with one gentle look, or one soft and serene smile.’
‘Jack,’ she breathed.
‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘And I want to marry you.’
For a moment, she was speechless—her eyes searching his face.
‘Do you think you could bear to be my wife?’ he continued softly.
Her mouth was working but no words seemed to be coming and then she nodded, and her words seemed to fall over themselves in their eagerness to be heard. She, Ashley Jones who could never find a foster family to love her, was being proposed to by Jack Marchant? He was telling her that he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Was she dreaming—or was this really happening? ‘Yes, oh yes! I mean, I do. Of course I’ll marry you. How could I not when I love you so much? I can’t… I can’t believe. Oh, Jack! ‘
He slid the ring onto her finger—and then kissed her trembling lips.
‘You’re happy?’ he asked.
