Benedict’s heart skipped. “You mean?—”
“That if you can convince Lizzie to accept you, I have no objection.”
A lingering hint of pride nagged at Benedict. “But, sir, I cannot possibly accept money from you.”
“The money always should have been yours. I cannot regret it, of course. The gaming hell brought me to my wife, and she gifted me with two precious daughters. But I think it’s high time it was returned to where it came from—not the interest though. Your father’s calculations were highway robbery.”
Benedict couldn’t speak for several heartbeats. After a lifetime of having nothing, the offer left him stunned. Then understanding slammed into him—Wayland was offering him a future with Eliza, pride be damned.
“I think I can agree to those terms,” Benedict said, then reached his hand out for Wayland to shake.
No sooner had they separated than Benedict found Eliza’s hand. He tugged her through the door and around to the back of the house, desperate for a small measure of privacy.
“Eliza?” he asked, breathless.
“Yes?” Her smile was so lovely and bright.
Benedict swallowed. “I don’t suppose you have any interest in marrying me? I understand if you need time, or aren’t sure. But I… I needed to ask.”
“I don’t suppose you have any interest in marrying me?” she repeated, levity in her voice. “Benedict Sinclair, I’m afraid the damage is done—I’ve seduced and utterly ruined you. Now you’re thoroughly compromised. You’ll have no choice but to accept my ransom demands.”
“And those are?”
“You’ll have to marry me, of course. It’s the only way to save yourself from humiliation.”
“Oh, I’ll have to marry you?” he laughed as the grin blooming on his face threatened to split it open.
“Oh yes. Now, are you going to ask me properly?”
His smile softened, mirroring the reverence in his heart. “Eliza Wayland, my violet,” he began, wrapping first one arm and then the other around her waist to pull her closer. Benedict could not contain the giddy delight bubbling in his chest. “Ruined or not, you’re my first choice. Would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
She nodded, her smile more brilliant than the sun. Elation threatened to overwhelm him. Hope and joy unlike anything he’d ever known bloomed in his chest, flooding every limb until he staggered under the weight of it.
He tightened his hold on her waist and lifted her into the air before spinning her around, earning a giggle even more infectious than the one he’d claimed that first night on the dance floor.
“That doesn’t belong there,” she teased, face beaming.
Benedict’s own certainly matched hers. “I know, but it made you smile.”
“And it is your aim to do so?” Eliza asked.
“Every day for the rest of my life.”
Epilogue
Benedict’s fingerrose and fell with each of Eliza’s vertebrae as he traced the line of her spine.
She hummed, stretching in languorous appreciation. “How much longer do we have?”
“Negative three minutes, but I can work with that,” Benedict murmured, then caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her wrist—the sort that never failed to make her breath hitch.
As expected, his wife rolled over in bed. Lecherous to his core, he couldn’t help but note the tightened buds that topped the creamy peak of each breast.
“On borrowed time? You do like to live dangerously,” she teased. She curled her hand around his neck and pulled his lips to hers.
“Yes, I’m a very dangerous man. Didn’t you know?” he asked as he pulled away to trail his tongue down the line of her throat.
“I think I heard someth—” Eliza’s teasing response was interrupted when his lips closed around her petal-pink nipple, his tongue swirling in that way she preferred. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips while Benedict transferred his appreciation to the other. “Something to that effect.”
