He’d pointed out the distinction between a bachelor and a rake and in doing so, he’d assured her he wasn’t the sort of man who would ruin a maiden. And while she only had his word on this, she’d come to realize she trusted him. He’d opened up to her and in so doing, he’d given her a second chance to form an opinion.
“I could easily kiss you all day,” he murmured while resting his forehead against hers. “You taste like the sweetest confection.”
She smiled. “I’ve never been this close to anyone before.”
“This was your first kiss?”
“Yes, and it was perfect.”
He kissed her again, this time with an added degree of certainty, conveying without the need for words how deeply her comment affected him. She answered by looping one arm around his neck and kissing him back, honing her skill by mirroring him. It was a conversation of sorts:I like you, I like you too, I’m sorry I wronged you, don’t be - I understand.
“Is it strange to wish we could do this forever?” she whispered against his cheek while he held her close.
A chuckle rumbled through him, instilling in her a peculiar sense of belonging. “No. I’m just glad to discover I’m not the only one who feels that way.”
His honesty and the vulnerability it reflected were humbling. It was time for her to be honest too, so she leaned back a little - just enough to meet his gaze. “I’m beginning to think you and I might suit much better than I’d expected. But I want to be certain. I do not want to rush into marriage and find out I was wrong. So if you agree, I’d like to propose a courtship for a minimum of three months.”
His eyebrows rose. “Three months?”
“If we still get along at the end of that period and neither of us has lost interest, then we can contemplate marriage.”
“Can the three months include the banns?”
“No. It would be three months followed by a discussion, a proposal, the banns, and finally the wedding.”
He puffed out a breath. “You make it sound so unromantic, but I suppose I can see the benefit. Of course, there’s also a downside to waiting.”
“And what would that be?”
Mischief swirled in the depth of his gaze. He pressed a swift kiss to her mouth. “You’ll figure that out on our wedding night, Margaret. May I call you Margaret? Miss Hollyoak feels all wrong after our recent intimacy.”
“Of course.” Good lord, she could scarcely think straight. He’d muddled her brain with his comment regarding the wedding night and the suggestion that there was a lot for her to look forward to.
“And you must call me George from now on. Agreed?” When she nodded, he kissed her again, then helped her rise. “How many children would you like to have?”
“What?” she squeaked while heat scorched her face.
He grinned. “I believe it’s one of those things we probably ought to agree on.”
“Oh. Um... To be honest, I’ve never really given it much thought, though I suppose you’re right.”
“Personally, I’d like to have several. At least three.”
“What if they’re all girls?”
“Then we’d have to have five, since I do need an heir and a spare.”
“I think I’d feel the same about girls.”
He knit his brow. “How do you mean?”
“I’d like to have at least one and since she would no doubt be lonely with only brothers for company, we probably ought to have two.”
“Then we agree on at least two boys and two girls?”
“I suppose so,” Margaret said.
“And what about raising them? I only ask because I think I’d like to take more of an interest in my children than my own parents did.” When she glanced at him, he explained, “As much as I loved my governess, I don’t think I should have felt a stronger attachment to her than I’ve ever felt toward my father or mother. Do you?”
