Chapter 30
Beatrice was safe. It was all that mattered, and it pounded like a prayer through Rupert’s head. He had her, and for as long as he lived, he would never let anything happen to her.
All around them, chaos ensued. The Bow Street Runners were arresting Uncle Reginald, and several moments later, they also pulled Isabella out of a back room he hadn’t noticed and also put her in handcuffs.
If Rupert were not living through this, he might never have believed him.
That his beloved uncle and his old friend could have conspired against him…
Then again, the dukedom was the ultimate prize, and his uncle had clearly been building up resentment and bitterness for decades. If Rupert had known, he could have tried to save him, to prevent this from happening.
But now, all that mattered was making sure that he could never harm Beatrice ever again.
At last, when Beatrice had stopped shaking, he released her.
“Are you all right?” he murmured, gazing down into her eyes, and she nodded.
“They tied me up for a bit, but they did not harm me.”
“Good,” he said, softly smiling as he touched her cheek. “That is all that matters.”
“The dukedom…” She murmured. “Your title. You were going to sign it over!”
“Of course I was,” he said, amused by the surprise in her voice. “Do you think I would not do that to save your life?”
She looked unsure. “Sir Reginald said that no man would give up power and wealth for a woman. For…”
She seemed hesitant to say the word out loud, even after everything they had already been through.
Rupert, thankfully, did not have such qualms.
“For love?” he asked, the corners of his mouth tilting up, and she blushed prettily. “My uncle may never have given up wealth for such concerns, as he has never been in love, but I would. For you, Beatrice, I would give my very life.”
They gazed down at one another for a long moment, and she opened her mouth as if to speak, as if to declare her feelings too. But before she could, they were interrupted by the arrival of Viscount Hastings. As Rupert turned to speak to him, Theodore came over and wrapped his arms around his sister.
“Your Grace,” Viscount Hastings said, bowing before Rupert. His face was grim as his eyes swept over the warehouse. “I came as soon as the magistrate told me. Your uncle… have we got him?”
“Yes,” Rupert said, straightening. “The Bow Street Runners just took him away.”
“I am very glad to hear it.” And indeed, the Viscount sounded relieved. “Then I suppose we can void the investigation into your legitimacy and restore you to your place in parliament.” He held out his hand, and smiled at last. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”
Rupert was surprised by the amount of relief he felt as he shook the Viscount’s hand. In his worry over Beatrice’s life, which had trumped every other fear, he had forgotten how much anxiety the issue of the title had caused him. It was good to know that it was, at last, over.
“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. “For all your thoroughness. And for never believing that my father could write that letter.”
“It was fraudulent,” Beatrice piped up. She stepped forward, out of her brother’s grasp. “Miss Thornton admitted as much to me.”
“We must get your statement on that,” the Viscount said, but Rupert shook his head.
“In a few days,” he said. “For now, I must insist on getting Miss Ashford home. She has been through a terrible ordeal and needs to rest.”
The Viscount agreed, and Rupert led Beatrice back to the carriage, where he told his driver to take him straight back to her townhouse. The whole way, he could not stop holding her. They sat together on the leather seat, his arms around her, her head resting on his chest.
“You are so warm,” she murmured, as the carriage trundled over the cobbled streets of London. “And so solid.”
Rupert laughed. “That I am.” His grip on her tightened slightly. “I also cannot stop holding you. I fear that if I do, you will slip away again.”
She moved her head slightly so that she was looking up into his eyes. “That is three times you have saved my life now,” she murmured.
“I am no longer keeping track,” he said, grinning at her. “But I think you might have saved my life as well back there. Who knows what Uncle Reginald was capable of.”
“I think we have thoroughly canceled one another out,” she said. “No more life debts are owed.”
Rupert chuckled. “On that, my dear, you are incorrect. You have saved me in ways you will never understand, brought me back to life and given me a reason for living. And for that, I will always be in your debt.”
They arrived back at the townhouse a half hour later, where Vivienne and the older woman, who Beatrice introduced as her guardian, Mrs. Hughes, were waiting impatiently. The moment they saw Beatrice, they took her into their arms and ushered her upstairs to bathe and be put to bed.
“I shall come see you in a few minutes,” Rupert reassured her. “But first, I must speak with your brother.”
Theodore arrived home several minutes later, looking exhausted but relieved. The earlier joy was gone, but there was a contentedness to the hold of his shoulders as he settled down on a settee across from Rupert in the parlor, a glass of strong whiskey in hand.
“Thank you,” Theodore said, his eyes clear and his expression calm as he gazed across at Rupert. “You displayed remarkable courage today in saving my sister, and I will forever be grateful to you and in your debt. You may have saved her life. I shall never, ever forget it.”
“I love her,” Rupert said, without hesitation. “I love her more than any man has ever loved a woman, and I would do it all again in order to save her. I would die for her. I think… I think you know that.”
Theodore’s gaze was soft as he nodded. “Yes,” he murmured at last. “I know that. And I hope you know that I will no longer stand in the way of you marrying her. You have proved today, and even before today, that your feelings for her are genuine, and that you will do anything it takes to protect her, care for her, and keep her safe.”
“Yes,” Rueprt said, smiling slightly. If only he knew all the ways I have kept her safe. “Compared to our courtship, in fact, I am hoping that our marriage will have far fewer instances of me needing to save her life. But knowing your sister, you can never be sure. She is a wild one.”
Theodore laughed. “Yes, she is. And that is why we love her. There is never a dull day when Beatrice is around. I missed her very much these last few years, and I am glad that she will marry a man who appreciates her. In fact, I will even speak with the Archbishop about obtaining a special license, as a gift to you, so that you can marry quickly. No more delays.”
Rupert was almost too emotional to speak. “Thank you,” he managed at last. “I promise you, I shall make her the happiest woman on earth.”
There was one final task to complete, and so, once Beatrice was ready, he made his way upstairs to her room, where he found her sitting on the settee in her room, reading a book of poetry. She set it down as he came in, her smile soft and tired, but full of what he hoped was love.
He sat down next to her and looked deep into her eyes.
“Beatrice,” he murmured. Unable to help himself, he took her hand. “There is something I must ask you.”
“Yes?” she murmured, her cheeks already rosy and her eyes bright with anticipation.
“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else,” he began.
“From almost the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were different from other women. And on that first adventure of ours, as we made our way through Sussex, I think I already was in love with you. You make every day an adventure. You are brave and smart and unafraid to speak your mind. And when I am with you, I feel more alive than I have felt in years.” He squeezed her hand tighter, and her smile grew wider.
“I traveled all over Europe in these past years to try and find that feeling, but everywhere I went, it was missing. It was only once I returned to England and met you that I found it. You are the spark that makes every day an adventure. And I hope that you will go on the greatest adventure of all with me and consent to be my wife.”
“Rupert…” she breathed, and she leaned toward him, bringing her lips within inches of his.
Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to keep from crying.
“I love you more than I can ever say. You are my hero, my white knight, and my confidant. The best friend I want to tell everything to. The man I want to write poetry about and whose advice about verse I want to seek out. And I believe I have loved you from the very moment I first saw you swimming toward me. But I love you even more now, in the deepest of ways.”
She was crying now, pearly tears sliding down her cheeks, and he cupped them, smoothing them away with his thumb.
“Does that mean you will marry me?” he asked, his voice a throaty whisper.
“Yes,” she laughed. “Of course I w…”
But he did not let her finish. Instead, he pulled her forward into a kiss, and he did not release her for a very long time.