“Padua, we must speak of serious matters now.”
“Perhaps you should stop doing that, then. Soon I will be incapable of thinking at all.”
“I will leave you with some ability. Enough. But I am inclined to keep at it, to make you pliable to my will.”
“Are you going to propose another game?”
“It is no game, I promise you.” He looked up in her eyes. “I broached the idea of marriage once before. You did not want to hear a proposal then. It was tainted by obligation. I would like you to agree to hear one now. I think I have a right to that.”
She thought he had a right to much more. “I will listen.”
“We suit each other, Padua. Not only in bed. In all ways. I enjoy your company, your mind, your laugh. I am never bored when I am with you, and I am often vexed when I am not.” He kissed her breast once more. “You have stolen my heart, Padua. I do not want you for a mistress. That is not good enough. Or a lover alone. That is not permanent enough. I want us to marry, so I can love you forever.”
She filled with light and happiness. She lay her hand against his face and kissed him. “That was a perfect proposal, Ives. Far better than I ever expected to hear. Not one word about the notoriety that will still attach to the name Belvoir even if my father goes free. Not even an allusion to all of the trouble I have caused you.”
“None of that matters, if you say yes.”
“I am not sure that I should.”
His expression fell. “If you do not feel the same, I understand. However, with time perhaps—”
“Oh, no. Oh, dear. Do not think that I do not feel the same. I have loved you for so long. I cannot contain my love sometimes and I want to shout or weep from it. It is only that—my father has owned a brothel, and been in Newgate for a month on suspicion of the worst crimes. You may be able to spare him future suffering, but the past is already written in indelible ink.”
“It will take more than a few ink spots to dissuade me, darling. Or to affect my position. And if I am wrong, that is my choice, I think. Having you is worth it to me, as so much else already has been.”
Love spilled out of her heart. She did not think it possible to be so happy. “If I say yes, is that all there is to it? We are engaged?”
“The rest is just formality.”
“Then yes.” She kissed him. “Yes!”
A discreet cough interrupted. She looked around, but could not see its source.
“Yes, Vickers,” Ives said.
“The refreshments are in the dining room, sir.” The voice came from just outside the door.
“We will find them. You should retire now.”
“Very good, sir.”
Padua giggled into Ives’s ear. “Do you think he was listening?”
“Undoubtedly.” He set her on her feet. “Let us see what he prepared.” He walked over to a writing desk, and made a stack of some paper and two inkwells and pens.
“What is that for?”
“The formalities.”
Vickers had prepared a little supper of ham, cooked eggs, bread, and cheese. A pot of coffee and another of tea waited as well. Ives divided up the paper while they ate. He set one inkwell near her, and kept one for himself.
After their meal he tapped her paper. “The solicitors will handle most of the settlement, but we should have our own. One that considers things other than property and pin money.”
She stared at her blank paper. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Write down your expectations. Anything at all, that you want in this marriage. Except the right to take lovers. I will not agree to that.”
“I would never demand that.”
