Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Ambrose,
I do wonder how this letter will be received.
For, as you may have guessed, my dearest, loveliest Arabella will soon be my wife.
There are no words to describe my joy. I know we railed against Thomas for rushing us all to the altar, but from my present circumstances I feel only gratitude.
I wish that you might find even half the happiness that I now enjoy.
I know that only you and Leonard remain, but do not let that lead you to a hasty match. A good wife is worth far more than six hundred pounds . . .
Ambrose looked up from Rowan Ashworth’s letter to gaze at Susanna.
She was at the nursery window, holding baby Alice.
Her golden hair was a halo in the light, her graceful figure set to advantage by her green dress.
Nurse had taken Jamie for a ramble about the grounds and rather than wake the sleeping baby, Susanna had volunteered to hold her.
In the days since their boat ride, it had proven difficult to spend enough time with Susanna.
He wished always to be near her, but in a house full of guests it was hard to steal away moments together.
The nursery had become a kind of haven; few but Grace and Henry ventured to the room, and Nurse did not seem to mind their company.
Especially since they often helped with her charges.
As if she could feel his gaze, Susanna looked up.
She smiled at him, displaying both dimples.
His breath caught in his lungs. How had he been so blind to her beauty?
All these years a wonderful woman had been before him and he had not noticed.
Every conversation, every small touch, he fell a little deeper in love.
“Careful, Mr. Hartley, a woman might get ideas from a look like that.”
He smirked. “Perhaps you should get ideas.”
Her cheeks flushed. She was still not used to him calling her bluffs.
“What does your friend say?” she deflected.
Ambrose glanced at the paper in his hand. “He is to marry Miss Delafield and is happy beyond words.”
“That is cheerful news.”
“Yes, though it means only Leonard and I remain.”
Her brow furrowed.
“The wager,” he answered her unasked question. “If Leonard beats me to the altar, I will owe a total of six hundred pounds.”
“I see.” She glanced down at Alice.
Ambrose smiled at her agitation. He had not yet asked for her hand, but she could not be unaware of his intentions. She had presumed he would offer with much less evidence of affection.
They had discussed the future several times.
He had ascertained she wished to live within a half mile of her aunt and would prefer a phaeton to a chaise.
When they spoke of his profession, she did not care as long as he enjoyed his work.
When he mentioned becoming an architect, she had encouraged him.
“Six hundred pounds is a strong inducement to marry quickly,” she said, still looking at Alice.
“True.”
“And you were running out of candidates . . .” She glanced up at him, doubt in her eyes.
“Susanna, you cannot think—”
“Well, why not? A week ago, you were quite set against me.”
He leapt from his chair and crossed to her. Because of the baby he could not fold her into his arms. He settled for laying his hand atop hers. The familiar warmth bloomed where they touched.
“The wager means nothing. It has not entered into my plans concerning you.”
Susanna nodded but did not meet his eye. He brought his hand to her chin and gently lifted it. Her eyes were bright. His heart twisted. This doubt was his fault, though he had tried to erase it with apologies and actions.
Alice cried out, squirming beneath their hands. Susanna looked down, breaking from his touch to calm the baby. She stepped away from him and he let her go. He was learning that for all her boldness, she was unsure of her worth.
His harsh words in the temple had hurt her more than he realized. How could he possibly convince Susanna that he was not courting her because of the wager? He did not want her forever wondering if he had married her only to win a bet.
Before Susanna could quiet Alice, Nurse returned with Jamie. The young boy barreled into Ambrose, giggling and demanding to be thrown into the air. Ambrose obliged, and by the time he finished tossing the child about, Susanna had left the room.
Eager to continue their conversation, Ambrose looked for her in the library, the drawing room, the music room, and outside.
It seemed she did not want to be found. It was strange not being near her after so many days of constant companionship.
How firmly she was embedded in his heart.
In two days, when the house party ended, how would he endure being separated?
As the hour for dinner approached, Ambrose formed yet another plan. Perhaps the most important plan of his life.
Dinner was unremarkable. Susanna was all smiles and soft teasing as if nothing was amiss.
But he was more familiar now with her smiles and her voice and they both were subdued.
When the ladies stood to leave, he wanted to jump to his feet and accompany them.
Grace gave him a slight nod as she passed him.
His sister had been most accommodating when it came to his courtship of Susanna, helping to arrange activities or relay notes. Tonight she had agreed to send Susanna to the library so he might talk with her privately.
He waited impatiently for the drinks to be poured, then drank his quickly and excused himself. He ignored William’s teasing. The entire party had surely noticed the change between Ambrose and Susanna, but it was only William who felt the need to point it out at every opportunity.
The walk to the library seemed longer than he remembered. When he entered, he was surprised to not see Susanna. He frowned.
Compared to the size of Brentmere Park, the library was modest. The walls were a mere nine feet and the shelves only six feet up.
Four tall windows lightened the room but reduced the shelving further.
Grace had augmented the capacity by adding shelves that jutted out into the center of the room.
Ambrose had to walk the length of the library to ensure that Susanna was not hidden behind one of them.
He had reached the low-burning fireplace when the library door opened. Susanna smiled wide as she stepped inside. It was as if the sun had entered the room.
“Does Grace know you are here?” she asked.
“Yes, I told her I needed to speak to you privately.”
Susanna’s eyes grew wide. “Oh?”
In a few strides, Ambrose had crossed to her. Instinctively he reached for her. He ached to take her into his arms but was aware of the open door. Instead he took her hand and pulled her deeper into the library.
He did not stop until they were at the back of the room, near the fireplace and hidden behind a shelf. He reached into his coat pocket. “You might recall this.” He waved his small notebook before her.
“Your notebook?”
“The notebook I bought after you stole my first one.”
“I merely borrowed it. You chose not to reclaim it from me.”
He hummed his disbelief. “In any case, this notebook contains all my plans for finding a wife.”
He opened the notebook to the first page and ripped out his list of requirements.
Susanna furrowed her brow, and he smiled at her.
He handed her the notebook. “I don’t need it anymore.” He crumpled the paper and turned away to toss it into the fire.
He turned back. She was flipping through the notebook, frowning. Names of the ladies he had courted and his notes on each filled the pages. He put his hand on the book to stop her. Her curiosity was not part of his plan. He had prepared a speech and a dramatic gesture.
“Don’t you see I don’t need any of it.”
She looked up at him with flashing eyes. “Yes, because every one of these women was found wanting. Now you are out of time and must accept a less ideal candidate or pay a fortune.” She shook the notebook to emphasize her point. “And you think that because I am in love with you, I won’t say no.”
He smiled, his heart near bursting, his head floating. She loved him! He had hoped she felt as he did, but it was different hearing the words.
“Why are you smiling?” she cried.
“Because you love me.” He smirked.
“That is not important.” She smacked his chest with the notebook.
He grabbed the notebook and pulled it from her.
“It is most important to me.” He flicked to the last page. “I might have known this would not go as planned.” He ripped the page out and tossed the rest of the book in the fire.
She cried out but could do little to rescue it. He wanted it to burn. There was nothing written there of any significance.
“I made a new list of requirements for my wife.” He held up the page. “Would you like to read it?”
She crossed her arms. “Does it say ‘will marry me quickly so I don’t lose the wager’?”
He sighed. “No. Though I had planned to address that concern, after you read my list and I made my declaration. But I suppose I was a fool to attempt to plan any of this.”
He pocketed the paper, reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, waiting until her eyes met his.
“As I said, I do not care about the wager.”
She scoffed.
“And to prove it, I am prepared to postpone our vows until after Leonard has married.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You would willingly pay six hundred pounds?”
His hand slipped to her cheek, his thumb resting where her dimple should be.
“I would do much more to prove that I love you.”
“You love me?” she murmured, eyes wide.
He answered by slipping his hand to her neck and pulling her firmly to him.
His lips claimed hers. It was not soft but a fierce, joyous kiss.
He pressed her back into the shelves. Her hand sank into his hair, and he groaned at the sensation of her fingertips on his scalp.
His nose was filled with roses and his head light with sensations. He never wished to stop.
Their ardor scared him—the library door was still open, and they were not yet married.
Reluctantly he pulled back, and her lips chased him for one more kiss. He rested his forehead on hers as they caught their breath. Her cheeks were aflame, her eyes bright, lips shiny. His heart swelled with love and he kissed her softly, briefly.
“I love you. I think I always have and I believe I always will.”
Then he stepped back. It was too tempting to be that close. Not able to fully stop touching her, he took both her hands in his.
Her dimple flashed up at him. “Did you tell Grace you intended to ravish me in the library?”
“No, I told her I had an important question to ask you.”
“But you haven’t asked me anything,” she teased.
“I was going to. I had a whole speech about how I knew exactly what I wanted in a wife and how wrong I was about all of it.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “I was going to tell you all the reasons I love you and then show you my new requirements for a wife before asking for your hand.”
She grinned up at him and squeezed his hands. “That was a lovely plan.”
“Thank you. I put a good deal of thought into it.”
“Are you angry that I spoiled it? We can start over if you wish.”
He shook his head. “No. Sometimes the best things in life are not planned.”
“Wise words.” She looked down at their hands before looking up with a coy smile. “However, I would like to know the reasons you love me.”
He groaned and looked to the fireplace. “It was in the book. I was going to read them.”
“Then what was on the paper you ripped out?”
“I will show you.” He released her hands and reached into his pocket, drawing out the paper.
She snatched it from him.
Requirements for My Wife
1. Be Susanna Fenton.
As she read, her smile broadened, both dimples appeared.
“That is one requirement I know I can fulfill.”
She dropped the paper and pulled him into another kiss.