And to think . . . she had awakened today not knowing that this glorious experience awaited her. That the bleak stretch of her future could shift into brilliant sunlight so quickly.
This is what it feels like, a part of her murmured in wonder.
To have her deepest, most cherished, most mortifying wish come . . . true.
4
Fox watched a blush flood every visible inch of Miss Penn-Leith’s skin.
Was that agoodthing?
Or did she flush from a sense of horror?
He honestly couldn’t say.
She had closed her eyes.
Hazel eyes, he noted.
As for the rest of her, she was not as unattractive as Fox had supposed an aging spinster would be. In fact, he would hardly label her asaged, as she appeared younger than her years, eyes bright and face unwrinkled. Her chestnut hair held a bit of curl, and her face had a pleasing roundness to it—soft chin, button nose, plump cheeks.
A gentle face. A kind face.
Kindness, he decided, was a vital quality in a wife.
Moreover, Leah Penn-Leith seemed the sort of woman who, if the world went topsy-turvy, would simply set-to, cleaning up.
No wonder Hadley had recommended her so highly.
Leah Penn-Leith was exactly what he needed in a wife. Idiotic of him not to have thought of marrying before this.
That said, the intensity of Miss Penn-Leith’s blush was . . . impressive. Rather alarmingly so.
Was her blush a reaction to his stuttering attempt at a marriage proposal?
Or a maidenly horror at all that marriage would require of her?
After all, he hadn’t missed how her eyes had skittered up and down his body before hastily darting away. Did she find him unattractive?
He was abruptly glad for the two fingers of whisky he had downed at the Lion Arms before wending his way to Thistle Muir. His heart beat a rapid tempo in his chest.
Would she refuse him?
She finally opened her eyes and met his gaze.
“Marriage? Gracious, this is quite a b-bit tae take in. I need a m-moment tae . . . that is . . . I must ponder . . .” She pressed unsteady fingertips to her sternum. “Atruemarriage, ye mean? One where we w-would . . .”
Her voice drifted away and her blush somehow deepened.
Devil take it . . . was the woman on the verge of . . . weeping?
Fox—quite surprisingly now that he pondered it—had not given the terms of this proposed practical marriage much thought.
But now that Miss Penn-Leith posed the question, what red-blooded male wouldnotwant a true marriage? Wasn’t the marital bed nearly the entire point of marriage?
Well, that and children and housekeeping . . .
Fox took hold of his thoughts.
