“Then I guess we will just set a record for London’s longest engagement...and hope that my heir isn’t born someday on the wrong side of the blanket,” he added under his breath.“That would be difficult to explain to your brothers.”He held up the ring once more.“Will you wear it?”
“But I still have not agreed to marry you.”
“Did I ask?”he teased, taking up her right hand and slipping the ring on her finger.“Keep it safe here for me, won’t you?It holds no significance there other than a reminder of me, a reminder that I love you and want a future.”
With her.
Running her fingers through his black hair, Fiona bit back a smile.
“You’ll have to give up your other beaux, of course.”
She widened her eyes in mock surprise but answered truthfully, hoping her admission might silently convey what she couldn’t yet put into words.“I have no beaux but you, Harry,” she said sincerely before the devil in her took hold.“I like them very much, of course, but perhaps no more than you cared for Abby and Moira once upon a time.I love Temple as a brother and Lord Harrowby like a far distant cousin.”
He smacked her bottom with a grimace.“You are never allowed to speak to him again.I won’t have my wife lusting after another man.”
“You don’t own me, Harry Brudenall!I’m not your wife!”Her eyes narrowed on him.“Did you just basically admit to lusting after Moira?Don’t look at me like that!You’re the one who said the word, not me.I never said I lusted after Harrowby even if he is as big and gorgeous as a Viking lord and has thighs as–”
With a groan, he pulled her into his arms again and silenced her with a kiss.
“Would you truly think to control me, Harry?To tell me what I can and cannot do?”
She pulled away, watching him from beneath her lashes to gauge his response.It was one thing she had never thought to discuss with him.If she were to marry him—in truth, she was doing more than merely considering it—would he give her the freedom to be who she was, or would he use his rights as her husband to rein her in?Would he expect her to be a proper lady as so many aristocrats did?
“Of course not.I was teasing.”
“What if I wanted to play golf more often than not?”
“I would do my best to become a better opponent,” he told her, then glanced down at her with dawning comprehension in his eyes.“A far more serious question than it seems, yes?You are asking if I would begrudge you your amusements...if you were my wife.I wouldn’t do that.”
Still, Fiona pursed her lips skeptically.“What if I were to make a career of it, like Miss Pearson?”
“I would never bar you from achieving your ambitions,” he assured her.“Your passion for life is one of the things I love most about you.If you aspire to play professionally, I will applaud your efforts at every green.If it is your greater ambition to travel the globe and play at a different course each week, I suppose I would have to buy a yacht as I abhor the services aboard the larger ships.”
Smiling up at him, she felt the one thing she knew she had been lacking amid the love for Harry blossoming in her heart.Hope.Trust.Perhaps she could have the one thing she had always longed for in life without losing herself along the way.
“If I wanted to rally with the suffragettes?”
“I would gladly paint your signs for you,” he said promptly.
Her dimples flashed, pleased with his answer.“If I wanted to smoke a cigarette?”
He offered a playful grimace.“I should compel you to try cigars instead.”
Laughter bubbled up in her, and she snuggled against his bared chest, adoring the feel of her flesh pressed against his.“What if I took to wearing trousers each day?”
Brows arching high over his widened eyes, he said in all seriousness.“Would you really?My God, what a delicious thought.I should be all too happy to see that.”
“You’re joshing with me.”
“Not at all.”He ran his hand over her hip and around to cup her bottom.“The very thought of seeing your bottom encased in tight trousers is even more tantalizing than the memory of you in your black corset...Of course, you are rather fine just like this.”
Fiona’s lips curved into a smile.“How fine?”
* * *
Sometime later, theparlor darkening with the coming dusk, she sighed sleepily in the circle of Harry’s arms.The sofa had been left behind some time ago, and the hard floor was proving painful despite the thick rug covering it.
“I guess I should go.Francis and Eve and...everyone will be wondering where I am.I can’t begin to imagine what your staff is thinking.”
