Chapter Fourteen #2
He glanced down at her, affection stamped across his handsome features. “Truth be told I do. But only if the idea pleases you, dear Marianne.”
Tears sprung from her eyes at the endearment. Her father had once called her Sweet Mary Annie, but Victor had never addressed her with any fondness.
“It pleases me,” she whispered. “I’m an only child and was often lonesome. I always hoped that Toby would grow up with brothers and sisters.”
He half raised a bushy black eyebrow. “Brothers and sisters?”
“As many as we may be blessed with.” She stretched her hands towards the strengthening heat of the small fire. Happiness bubbled up inside her as she saw Benedict’s joyful expression.
He reached down and smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. “I am the most fortunate man in all of England.”
“To be standing in a drafty barn while a storm surges outside?” she teased.
“To be with you, nothing else matters,” he answered, fervently. “But I would see you out of those wet clothes.” He blushed charmingly as her eyebrows shot up. “Before you catch a cold,” he added.
“Ah yes.” Marianne nodded and a giggle escaped her. “Alas, I have nothing to change into.”
“And it would not be proper to be in a state of undress before me before we are legally wed.” Benedict nodded solemnly.
“Indeed not.” Marianne matched his grave tone.
“Then you must distract me,” he growled. “For now you have put the idea in my head, all I can think of are the many and fun ways we could keep each other warm.”
A surge of desire shot through her and Marianne felt her cheeks grow pink. But she met his gaze boldly. “I did no such thing.”
“Then the fault must be mine.” He sat back on his heels so their eyes were almost level and Marianne could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. “For whenever I am with you, I find myself mulling over the most impure actions.”
“The fault is most certainly yours, sir.” The lightness of her voice did not reveal the hammering of her heart. “But I will be of service, if I can. Tell me, how should I distract you.”
Looking into his brown eyes was like gazing into a pool of chocolate. Marianne was sorely tempted to throw caution to the wind and lean in for the kiss that was surely hers to claim.
“How did you escape?”
It took her a few moments to digest the question. She disguised her disappointment at the change of subject by shifting position on the stool.
“From Medstead Hall?” The stool wobbled on the uneven floor.
“From that devil of a man who was holding you there.”
Marianne’s lips twitched. “I drugged him. With a syrup concocted for infants.”
Benedict’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his damp hair. “For infants?”
“Godfrey’s Cordial. It contains laudanum,” she explained. “I found Toby’s nurse dosing him with it some time ago. She was dismissed, eventually.” She shuddered. “But there were some dregs left in the bottle I found in the pantry.”
“There was enough laudanum in a child’s medicine to fell a grown man?” Benedict’s expression was equal parts marveling and horrified.
“I don’t imagine Edgar has slept much in the last few days. And he is not a man in the best of health.” She thought of his straining shirtfronts and smiled slightly. “Perhaps I had luck on my side?”
“I definitely had luck on mine, the day I lost a fight in the Lyon’s Den.”
This time Benedict leaned closer and swept his lips lightly across her cheek. Marianne twisted on the stool, wrapped her arms about his neck and snuggled into his chest. As much as she desired this man, her wish for physical closeness and affection was stronger in this moment.
“I am glad you think of it that way,” she murmured.
He stroked her hair gently. “Always.”
“Everything we fretted about has come to pass. And we have survived it.”
She heard the smile in his reply. “You’re right. To think I was worried about you meeting my family.” He lifted her chin and rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. “It all seems like a very long time ago.”
“And I was worried about Aunt Clementine discovering our plans.” Marianne put her hand on his wrist. “I never even asked how you came to meet with her.”
“I was summoned to the Lyon’s Den this morning. Your aunt was there, waiting for me.” Benedict smiled into her eyes. “Was it only this morning? It seems a lifetime ago.”
Marianne bit her lip anxiously. “Was she—kind to you?”
“Kinder than my own father, that’s for sure.” Benedict inclined his head. “She cares for you, Marianne. That’s clear.”
“Maybe she cares more than I realized.” Marianne spoke through a swell of emotion, which peaked when Benedict pulled away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.” He fished in his pocket, his face screwed up in concentration. “Your aunt asked me to give you this.” He carefully extracted a gleaming sapphire necklace and laid it across his palm.
Marianne gazed down at the shining stones, unable to believe her eyes. “But that belongs to Aunt Clementine. It was passed down from her grandmother. It’s one of her most precious pieces.”
“It seems she considers a necklace less precious than her niece.”
Marianne blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all. “And she entrusted it to you? She scarcely lets it out of the house.”
Benedict took a breath. “She said it was a gesture of faith.”
“In me?”
“In you. In me.” He smiled softly as a log spat in the brazier and sent up a narrow plume of smoke. “In us.”
“Aunt Clementine gives us her blessing?” It was too much to wish for.
“A very sparkly blessing.” Benedict held the necklace closer to her. “Take it, please, I have been terrified of losing it ever since she passed it to me.”
Marianne reverently stroked the glistening sapphires, each one more beautiful than the next. “Oh no. I couldn’t possibly wear something so precious in a barn. And I have no reticule.” She opened her arms, apologetically.
“You mean, you want me to keep hold of it?”
“I know you will keep it safe.” She closed her fingers around his, trapping the necklace beneath them. “Just as you will keep me safe. And Toby.”
“I will. I promise.”
Marianne pulled his body closer to hers, newly conscious of how he kneeled, uncomplaining, on the hard floor. “Tell me something.”
“Anything.”
“Are you too cold and uncomfortable to kiss me properly?”