“I left it at Cambridge Circus,” he replied, hand-in-hand with her.
“Go to it!”
Mark shook his head. “Not without you. I’ll never find my way.”
He’d been turned ‘round easily enough. Eliza feared that he’d fall into yet another trap without her guidance. “Ugh! Come on, then!”
Together, they crossed the pavements, thankful to be alive. To all who witnessed their daring escape—and those who heard the thrilling tale repeated in the pubs that evening of the pickpocket girl who gave away a fortune—Eliza Summersby and Sir Mark van Bergen’s story wasn’t finished yet.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
They climbed into the waiting landau and closed the door behind them. Amid the security of the squabs, Eliza noticed that Mark’s frock coat was torn. His hat was missing, snatched from his head somewhere between Little Earl Street and Comyn Ching. The starched collar of his shirt was limp with sweat, and he sagged back in his seat, exhausted.
Did he realize how close they’d come to dying?
She had sacrificed her wealth for him, though it had been an easy choice in the end. What use was a life of independence without love? What was the point of hoarding capital if she sold her soul—and Mark’s soul—to keep it?
As the carriage and high-stepping greys merged into traffic, Eliza knew that it had been money well spent. She admired the weary face of the man for whom she’d given up everything. He had loved her enough to search Seven Dials to find her. Saving him was the least she could do.
“You came for me,” said she, softly.
For a moment, she feared he hadn’t heard her, but then he turned his gaze toward hers. “Did you think I would not?”
Eliza shrugged. “I had rather hoped you wouldn’t…”
“Why?”
“Because the Duke of Bodlington is my father!”
He nodded. “Yes, I know. I’ve never wanted your parentage to come between us.”
“And yet it has!” She told him of the duchess’ threats. The old dragon had declared war against Mark, Eliza, and everybody they loved. “Your position at the Bank is in danger. You’ll be sacked. You’ll be ostracized. The duchess will see to it that you make no more money. What will you and Ann do when you’re reduced to nothing?”
For Sir Mark van Bergen, money was not the measure of a man. He was savvy with his investments and careful with his savings, but it was his character that made him a gentleman. Eliza wasn’t surprised when he told her, “His Grace tried to buy my silence for five thousand pounds and I didn’t take it.”
“Why ever not, Mark?” She knew he was a man of honor and substance, but still, she wondered why he hadn’t taken the bribe and washed his hands of her. It would’ve been so much easier for him and his family’s future.
“My silence cannot be bought,” he explained. “I shall keep the duke’s secret out of loyalty to you, not because of any obedience to a peer or his purse.” Mark leaned forward in the squabs to take her hand. He ran his fingertips lovingly across her palm, and then lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I am not afraid of the Bodlingtons. I’m not afraid of losing my career or my income. I am only afraid of losing you, Eliza. Everything else can be dealt with, but I cannot bear to loseyou.Come back to Green Street, my love. Let’s forget about the Bank and the duke, and simply make a life together.”
She shook her head. She wouldn’t! She couldn’t! “I’ve made such a hash of things, Mark, since the moment you met me. I won’t let you destroy everything you’ve worked for, even if you believe these things don’t matter. You don’t know what it’s like to starve, or freeze, or steal.” She flushed scarlet at the memory of all she’d had to do to survive. “Those high morals of yours will go out the window when your belly’s aching and you can’t find an honest way to make your next meal.”
But Mark was not to be swayed, for he was as determined as ever to have her. “You’re not the only capable person in this carriage. And I’m glad you’ve come into my life and made a hash of it,” he said, pulling her into his lap. He circled his arms around her and cradled her against his chest.
It felt good and right to be with him. The Duchess of Bodlington had been wrong to try and keep them apart.
“I’ve been complacent for too long,” Mark continued. “I had lost my fire, my spirit—until you. If I resign from the Court of Directors, it will be because my time at Threadneedle Street has reached its end. I don’t want to finance wars anymore. I want to be a man who you are proud of. So let’s test our courage together. To hell with society! Our true friends will stand by our side.
“Marry me, Eliza. Allow me to place that sapphire ring upon your finger and swear to me this time that you’ll never take it off, no matter how rough the road that lies ahead. We can face anythingtogether.”
Tears shimmered in his sharp, dark eyes. They had been through so much and had come out stronger on the other side. How could shenotlove him? How could shenottrust him? Mark was the sort of gentleman in whom she could place her faith and her heart.
She had never known a kinder, braver man.
“I love you, Mark.” Eliza pressed her lips to his, claiming his mouth in a kiss that left both of them aching and breathless. “I’d be proud to be your wife.”
“Then it’s settled, my pretty bride-to-be, my lady pickpocket, my love.” She balked and laughed, and he gave her a tremulous grin. “You shall be my wife, and I’ll know the greatest good fortune of being your husband.”
Eliza couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than that.
