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“No, because I did not have the cloud of insecurity and concern hanging over me. While I did not like your opinions on the matter, I did grow to understand where they came from.”
“I noticed your efforts at the Huttons’ ball,” I said, recalling the way he had stepped out of one partner’s reach after her hand had lingered a little too long on his sleeve.
“I hoped you had,” he said quietly. “Once it was made clear to me that your concerns were valid and my flirting was not delivering the correct message to these women, I subdued it. I am still working to find a balance between polite, friendly chatter and flirting.”
“Your awareness does you credit, Ben.” I cleared the emotion from my throat, my heart slamming in my chest. “You are thoughtful, and that is one of the reasons I would like to beg you, Benedict Bradwell, to forgive me for my foolishness, to accept me as I am today, and to agree to be my husband.”
His mouth dropped open, and his head tilted a little to the side. Moonlight cast shadows over his face, but his surprise was evident alongside the mirth glittering in his eyes. “Is that not my responsibility?”
I blinked at him. This was not going at all how I expected. Surely he should be kissing me by now. “Well, you have already tried and were refused. I hoped, were you to learn of how my understanding had changed, that you would also accept my plea to become engaged.”
“Yes, I did understand all of that.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “But am I not meant to askyouto be my wife?”
“I did not ask you to be my wife. I asked you to be my husband.”
“You should not be doing the asking at all.”
“Whyever not? If I decide that I wish to marry you, to love you forever and cherish your heart and your mind, why must I wait foryouto askme?”
He smiled. “Because it is what is done.”
“When have I ever donewhat is done?”
He opened his mouth to reply, looked to the window, then closed his mouth again. “Can I at least give my apology now?”
“You have nothing to apologize for. It was my childish, abhorrent behavior that pushed you away time and again—”
“And my inability to see how my flirtatious behavior with other women might hurt you. We both have faults,” he said gently, drawing his fingers over my cheekbone and tracing my jaw much as he did before. “But now we will work together to overcome them.”
“Together,” I whispered. “I like the sound of that.”
Benedict stepped closer, sliding his other hand around my waist. Moonlight bathed us completely, and I felt lifted from the dreary study and exalted by Benedict’s touch. His lips hovered above mine, a whisper away, and my eyes drifted closed so I could savor every feeling, from the pressure of his hands to his warm chest against me. His lips lowered, and he kissed me slowly, tenderly, as though he wanted to stretch the moment forever. I lost all sense of time, wrapped in the explosion of warmth, and allowed my lips to lead, my hands to lose themselves in gripping his coat, my feet to feel weightless.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and I quickly realized Peter Seymour had inadequately prepared me for how utterly amazing kissing could be.
When Benedict lowered me again, he did not release me, but pulled me against his chest and slowly kissed my forehead, my temples, my nose.
“You never answered my question,” I said, unable even to feign pique while in a state of such ecstasy.
His chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Fine, Thea. I will marry you.”
“Do not bother yourself with sounding pleased or anything.”
Benedict squeezed me tighter. “I would be honored to become your husband.”
I sighed. “That is a relief. Felicity and I have been planning this for weeks.”
“Planning what, exactly? The ball?”
I slid my hands up his back and spoke with nonchalance. “The right moment to beg you to consider me and forgive me. So yes, the ball. The dance. The quiet, secret conversation in a dark room.”
“You planned to drag me to a dark room?”
“I thought it would be best for this conversation.” And for kissing—but that had been the hopeful side of me.
“I am not surprised, actually.” He grinned, lifting an eyebrow. “You also planned for me to ask you to dance?”
“No.” I shrugged a little. “I planned to ask you to dance. But you did it first.”
