“Never. I have thought it was hasty, and improbable, and dangerous for both of our hearts and our futures, but I never thought it waswrong.When I went away, however, I came to realize how exactly, perfectly, essentiallyrightit was. And is. How authentic my feelings for you are. How authentic our marriage could be, if you will have me.” He rushed to finish. “That is why I have no wish to speak of ‘the arrangement’ ever again. I sought you out in Belgravia only to find you embarking on a trip to rescue Caldera. This only proves how right I am.
“Youdon’t seem to regard our union as simply ‘an arrangement,’ God love you,” he said, “and my only regret—my very great regret—is that it has taken me so long to realize it. But in my defense, I was prepared to admit it after the first week at sea, sailing to the Barbadoes. Inconveniently, you were not available in the middle of the Atlantic.”
He’d said enough, he decided, and nodded to the velvet pouch. “A proper wife should have a proper wedding ring. You’ve gone without every flourish or romantic gesture owed to a properly courted heiress, and I should like to rectify the matter over time. Beginning now. And do not think I’ve done it with money from your dowry, if you please. Joseph managed to sell our first shipment of guano in advance, before he even departed England. I can afford to spoil you a little now, if you will allow me.”
Willow stared at him, her large blue-green eyes filled with a heart-wrenching mix of disbelief and hope. Cassin resisted the urge to throw himself, prostrate, at her feet to beg her to consider him. But he had picked up a thing or two about women over the course of his thirty-six years, and he cocked an eyebrow instead. “Off you go,” he said. “Open it.”
While he held his breath, Willow tugged the drawstrings and turned the pouch upside down over her palm. The ring fell out, a simple gold band with a colossally large emerald surrounded by diamonds and orange garnets.
She let out a little gasp, staring down at the ring in the fading light.
“I bought it in a shop in Bridgetown, Barbadoes, if you can believe it.” His voice was thick and unsteady. He cleared his throat. “The spoils of some pirate’s daring high-seas raid, no doubt. I come bearing more romantic drivel, I’m afraid, if you will allow me.” He cleared his throat again. When next he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “The emerald reminded me of your eyes, and the orange garnets of your hair. I wanted it for you from the moment I saw it. I bought it months ago, in anticipation of seeing you again.”
“It’s magical,” she whispered reverently, and then she scrambled off him, nearer to the waning sunlight from the windows. Cassin reached after her, loath to let her out of his lap. The linen of her gown slipped through his fingers, and he sighed. He bent a knee and pulled up a leg, watching her study the ring. She slipped it on her finger and held out her hand.
“I am very discerning, Cassin, as you may remember,” she said. “Beauty is my vocation, and I cannot tolerate the look of anything expected or boring or garish.” She smiled at him, and his heart felt as if it might burst. “And this may well be the most beautiful setting I’ve ever seen. I adore it. And not simply because it came from you. It’s truly remarkable. Well done, Cassin.”
She picked her way back to his lap, and he held his arms out to her.
She leaned in to kiss him, and he hesitated, turning his face away. It was almost painful to resist her, and she made an adorable protesting cry.
“What is it?” she demanded.
“I feel compelled to unburden the two of us of one more thing,” he said, “er, before we go on.”
“Speak for yourself, Cassin. I’ve no burdens between us.”
“Ah, yes. So goes the existence of the pure of heart.”
“I’ve waited an age to be less pure. What is it?”
He laughed. “I simply wanted to say that you were correct to deny me your body until I came to this realization, as tortured a journey as it has been. I know now that I would’ve come to my senses either way, but you were wise to protect yourself from what must have appeared to be a very fickle, indecisive man.”
Willow made a face, and he forged on. “That said, I want to assure you that I’m not saying a lot of pretty words this night so that I can dance merrily into your bed—er, onto this painter’s cloth.” He grimaced at their nest on the floor. “You have my word that I have no intention of resuming the detachment of our former ‘arrangement’ tomorrow.”
“Hmmm,” Willow said, gazing at her ring. “I appreciate the clarity, but I know that you would not betray me.” She looked up and tossed her head, shaking errant curls from her shoulders. Her bun had dissolved into a glorious halo of auburn.
Cassin smiled, relief flooding through him, and he took up a handful of the soft curls, squeezing them gently in his fist.
Willow tugged away and flipped the wild, heavy weight of her hair onto the opposite shoulder. “You have declared yourself sufficiently, I would say. And now we shall go to bed.”
Cassin’s lust surged, and he squeezed his eyes shut and then open. “One more thing . . . ”
“You’re joking.” She grabbed him by the lapels and brought her mouth to his.
“No,” he laughed around kisses. He reached behind her until he caught up her ankles. Pushing up, he raked his fingers along her stockinged legs beneath the hem of her gown.
“You complained before,” he said, speaking around another kiss, “about always being the last to know, and I wanted to make sure that”—another kiss—“this late declaration of mine did not leave you to feel—”
“If you do not cease talking,” she said, “and take me to bed, I shall be the last virginal wife in the history of time. I will be forced to ravish you myself, in the same way I was forced to propose to you.”
He laughed. “You mean, in your father’s library, accompanied by Perry and Mr. Fisk and your mother’s hounds?”
“No.” She laughed, kissing him again. “Without the slightest idea of what I’m doing. Although less paperwork.”
And now he growled and swept her up, vaulting to his feet with her in his arms.
“Agreed. But not here. I’m sorry. You made your own proposal, endured a forgettable wedding, and received a ring five months late. I will make love to you properly if it’s the last thing I do. In a bed. With a warm fire. Behind a locked door. Please tell me you have your own room in Belgrave Square.”
