Chapter Sixteen #2
She smiled, and it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. ‘I know I am. When you’re here, you are always rescuing me.’
‘Not as much as you rescue me.’ He had been wandering lost his whole life until Jane had found him, seen him, known him. ‘Do you remember what happened?’
‘Some. It’s all a bit hazy now. I remember Paul. He came towards me, and I fell. Then Regina Van Joort was there, you appeared…and I—I fainted.’ She gazed up at him in something like wonder. ‘You did come for me.’
No matter that he was the one to drive her away in the first place. ‘I will always come for you, Jane.’
‘Then why did you try to send me away?’
Ah, that was the question, the conundrum of his life. Why had he done such a foolish thing?
‘Because you are the most special person I have ever known,’ he said. ‘You are all I have ever dreamed of wanting. You are so kind, so strong. I never dared think I would find anyone like you.’
‘Nor I you, Benedict. No one understands me, sees me, as you do. You saved Kate and brought her to me! You helped my school with all those books. That shows how very good a heart you possess.’ She glanced away at the window, as if gathering her thoughts.
‘But you pushed me away, you…’ To his horror, she started to cry, and he wiped away her tears.
‘You deserve so much more than a damaged, poverty-stricken duke. You deserve absolutely everything, Jane. Everything you could ever desire.’
She shook her head. ‘I only ever desired a life where I could be useful, and I was sure you did too. I thought we were…’
Soul mates. For that was what they were—two people who had always known each other.
Being with her just made the world make sense.
It was not thunder or fireworks, just a deep, unmistakable knowing.
Finding something he hadn’t realised was missing until it was right in front of him.
She saw the version of him beneath the mask, the one he rarely showed anyone else, and she loved it.
‘Jane,’ he said hoarsely. He held her hand very tightly in his, revelling in its warmth. ‘I have to say something now, and I’m afraid I can’t find the words for it at all.’
She shook her head. ‘What do you mean, Benedict? Think of books…poetry.’
He steeled himself. This was far harder than any boxing ring could be. ‘I am no poet. But, Jane, I am in love with you. I probably have been since that day we met in the bookshop. I took one look at you and I…’ He faltered, laughed. ‘I could never think of anything else.’
She watched him carefully, the silence stretching out around them. This would always be the second between before and after; he knew it.
It all spilled out, everything he’d kept so tightly packed inside.
How he loved her kisses, her green eyes, how she shot an arrow and managed a sail; her kindness and laughter.
How he could not imagine a life without her now, how he knew he was asking lot.
That it was no easy job to be a duchess, not in the whole-hearted way he knew Jane would fulfil it, but that they would be together every step of the way—for ever.
She stared at him wide-eyed. Everything in the room had gone perfectly still.
‘Jane, that is all. I am in love with you, utterly and completely in love. And I’m afraid there is no getting over it, ever. If I can’t marry you, I will never marry anyone at all.’
Tears suddenly poured from her eyes as if she had held them back for ever.
‘Oh, Benedict. I love you too. I only want your happiness, above everything else. How could I ever saddle you with an unwanted wife, love you so much with the prospect of you thinking we are repeating your parents’ mistakes all over again? ’
‘We will never, can never, be my parents.’ He dared to hope in that moment that she might love him, and he felt as if he were standing at the edge of something beautiful and terrifying.
He noticed every tiny thing in that moment: her eyes lingering on his, whispering unspoken words to him; how her voice softened when she said his name.
He shouldn’t read too much into it all, but hope had a way of blooming anyway.
He kissed her hand, feeling the soft warmth of her skin against his, smelling the summer warmth of roses.
‘We are us,’ he said. ‘We know each other. If you will take a chance on marrying me, I will spend my whole life making you happy. I’ve never been happier in all my own life than when I am with you, no matter what we are doing, even just walking or watching the sea or reading.
I never even thought the feelings I read about in books could be real!
You show me that being alive can be a wonder, a joy.
Before you, everything was just some grey, dull half-day.
Now I see colours, because of you.’ He kissed her hands again, once, twice, fervently.
‘Please, please, marry me. Really, this time.’
Jane laughed. ‘And you say you are not a poet.’ She reached up and touched his hair, drawing him down to her for a soft kiss.
One swift caress, then came another and another, as if she too couldn’t get enough of this nearness.
‘I admit I know little about being a duchess, Benedict, but I will learn. We will take care of each other now. I knew when you told me about life at your estate that I wanted to be there with you, to help you. If you really, really want me, then I am yours for ever; we will never part again.’
They laughed together, Jane and her glorious, golden laugh, and Benedict knew he had never been more free, more light, more young.
He would hear her laugh every day of the life they made together.
He had never believed such a thing could happen, not to him.
He could do anything at all with her beside him.
‘So you will marry me, Jane? Really?’ he said.
She gave him the most radiant, most precious smile. ‘Yes, Benedict, Your Grace. I will marry you.’
He laughed again and reached inside his jacket to retrieve a small box. ‘It is fortunate I didn’t lock this away again, then, when Aunt Louisa insisted I take it. I must have hoped, to have kept it with me.’ He opened it to reveal a sapphire-and-diamond ring. ‘It was my grandmother’s.’
‘Oh, Benedict,’ Jane whispered as she stared down at it, sparkling in the light. Her hand trembled as she held it out, and he slipped it onto her finger where it had always belonged. It looked as if it had been made just to be there, a promise for their new future.