Chapter 28 #2
“Adam,” she said, tracing the line of the scar downward from his eye to the corner of his mouth. “Think carefully, do. Think of what you know about me, about what I was, what I am.”
“A whore?” he said so that her eyes flew to his in shock and her face flushed painfully.
“I am going to tell you something, Fleur, and I want you to listen very carefully. Sybil had consumption. It is very unlikely that she would have survived this year. But she could have had that year or part of it, anyway. She could have had my support and even affection and all of Pamela’s love.
But she had had one cruel disappointment in life and another lesser one last summer.
She lost her will to live. She would not accept the comfort I tried to give her.
She almost totally ignored Pamela. And finally, when she had word of Thomas’ death—before I did—she took what little remained of her life. ”
“The poor lady,” Fleur said. “I do feel desperately sorry for her, Adam.”
“So did I,” he said. “But listen to me, Fleur. You were put into a dreadful situation over a year ago. You faced either a noose about your neck or a nightmare of a marriage if you went back home, or starvation if you stayed in hiding. But did you give in to self-pity? No. You fought, doing everything you had to do to survive. You did the ultimate, Fleur. You became a whore. I pity my wife. I honor you more than I can say in words.”
She swallowed. “Perhaps because you know you were the only one,” she said. “How would you feel if there had been a dozen others? Two dozen? More?”
“Fit to kill,” he said. “Before my marriage, Fleur, I slept with more than a dozen women. I could not possibly put a number on them, the women I bedded. How do you feel about that?”
She was silent for a while. “Fit to kill,” she said.
“Does it make you stop loving me?” he asked.
“No.” She laid a palm against his cheek. “That is in the past, Adam. I have no control over that and you cannot change it. I don’t care about your past.”
“And I don’t care about yours,” he said. “Will you be my duchess, Fleur?”
“Pamela?” she said.
“She seemed a little troubled that I was willing to sacrifice myself by making you my wife just so that I could also make you her mama,” he said. “I had to assure her that it was what I wanted too.” He smiled.
“She adored her mother,” she said.
“Yes, and always will,” he said. “We will have to make sure that she never forgets Sybil, Fleur. And we will hope that memory somewhat distorts the truth. We will hope that she remembers Sybil as a constantly attentive mother as well as a beautiful and indulgent one. You will never be her mother, but you can be her stepmother. And I can tell you from experience that it is possible for her to love both. I have faint, flashing images of my mother and have always associated those images with unconditional love. But I was dearly fond of my stepmother, Thomas’ mother. ”
She lowered her head to his shoulder.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, and closed her eyes. There were no other words to say. How could one put into words a happiness that filled one so full to the brim that it was almost a pain?
He settled his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes. And felt that there was no further need of words for the moment. It was as he remembered it the night they made love. They could communicate more perfectly through the silence than through the imperfection of words.
“I have a confession to make,” he said at last. “I dreaded having a letter from you to say you were with child, and yet I looked for that letter and hoped for it. You see how in my selfishness I would have made you suffer?”
“I cried when I knew I was not,” she said.
He laughed softly and turned her face up to his with one hand at her chin and kissed her deeply and lingeringly.
“We will have you with child just as soon as can be,” he said. “Tonight maybe?”
“Tonight?” She was laughing against his neck.
“On our wedding night,” he said. “Is it too soon?”
“Tonight?”
“We can wait if you want,” he said. “We can have a planned wedding. We can have it in London if you wish, with half the ton in attendance. I daresay even the king would come if we invited him. But I would rather have it today, Fleur. We could spend our first night here in your cottage. Do you have a guest room for Pamela?”
“Yes,” she said, touching his lips with one light finger. “I have dreamed of having you here with me, Adam. My arms have been so empty without you and my bed so cold.”
“They will not be empty tonight, my love,” he said, “and the bed will be warm. And you will not need to dream any longer. It will all be reality.”
“I won’t need your letter beneath my pillow tonight,” she said.
“Or the pianoforte either,” he said, and they both laughed and hugged each other.
“Oh, Adam,” she said, “I have been so lonely without you. It has seemed such an eternity.”
He turned her face up again and they smiled at each other.
“No longer,” he said. “No more loneliness, Fleur, for either of us. Only our marriage and our children and Willoughby and growing old together. Only our love forever.” He lowered his head and kissed her mouth softly. “And longer than forever.”