Page 128
“They would never accept me—”
“They’ll accept my wife, and any children that might come of the match. If you want to raise this boy as ours, I’ll agree to it. He’ll have the best schools. We’ll summer at the coast and take him on holidays to France and Italy. After he finishes at Eton, we’ll send him on the Grand Tour before he goes to Oxford.”
“What about my bank?”
“It will be ours. You’ll influence how it’s run.”
Influence?
William took her by the shoulders, urging her to face him. “Reina, I’m offering you a life of many dimensions. The bank will be part of it. But so will our family. You’ll belong in my world. You’ll have a legal name. Connections. Companionship.” One of his hands came up to her face, stroking her cheek with the backs of two knuckles. “There are advantages to having an older husband. At my age, a man knows enough to appreciate things he once might have overlooked.” He drew closer, which put Reina in a fluster.
But she didn’t move away.
“I’ve already proven everything I needed to prove in life,” William said softly. “I think the same could be said of you.”
“I have far more left to do.”
“Such as the bank. I understand. But marrying me won’t be an obstacle to your goals. We’ll accomplish them together as husband and wife.”
“William,” she began awkwardly, “after all I’ve fought for—”
“Don’t answer yet. Just lend it some thought.” His fingers were pleasantly cool against her flushed cheek. His face had never been so close to hers before. He had the kind of lived-in handsomeness that would last for decades: Time would never diminish the fine, strong architecture of his face. “If you say no, we’ll go on as before. But it’s worth considering.” He grinned down at her. “I’m considered rather a catch, you know.”
Reina was too stunned to smile back. The transformation of her friend into a prospective suitor, a lover, was too much to take in all at once. His head lowered, and his lips touched hers. The connection was light, sensuous, teasing rather than demanding. He was experienced at this, taking his time about settling into the tender velvet kiss. Her hands crept up the lapels of his coat, while she let herself respond and felt warmth bloom inside her.
Finally William ended the kiss and looked down at her. “I know you’re too pragmatic to be swept off your feet by romantic declarations,” he said dryly. “So for now, I’ll only say that I care for you deeply, and I always will, no matter what you decide. But consider this, Reina: We have much in common. We could enjoy life together as few people ever have.”
***
“Benjamin Higget Martin . . .” Reina mused later that afternoon, as she knelt over the baby. “I think that’s a fine name, don’t you?” The infant lay on a towel spread over the carpet, staring up at her face while she pulled items from a little pail beside his basket. “There have been many accomplished Benjamins: Franklin, of course, and Disraeli, and a painter named Benjamin West, and a brilliant astronomer, Benjamin Banneker . . .” She bent lower to rub a kiss into his tiny flannel-covered chest. “I do appreciate your patience, by the way. I’m sure I’ll have the knack of this soon.”
After sitting up again, she frowned at the collection of supplies for changing him. “But I’m not sure how to do this with only two hands.”
A quiet sound of amusement came from the doorway. “I’ll lend one of mine, if it would help.”
Reina glanced over her shoulder, her face turning hot as John came into the room. Her heart started casting out extra heartbeats like an enthused flower girl throwing petals at a wedding.
She hadn’t seen him since William’s departure. After she’d said something about needing time alone to think, the entire house had quieted. She had tugged one of the club chairs closer to the hearth and set her stocking feet on the warm brass rail of the fireplace fender.
Later Ivonne had brought up the baby, and Reina had insisted on taking him for a while, to give the wet nurse some time to herself.
Now she found it difficult to meet John’s gaze. Heaven knew what he’d seen or heard while William had proposed to her.
She’d been in a strange mood ever since that proposal. It hadn’t exactly been the stuff of high romance. Not at all like those silly tales in Quill & Corset Monthly: “My precious darling, could you yield your heart to me for all your life long?” or “Fairest maiden, I beg for the answer that will turn a thousand fears into the ecstasy of knowing you will be mine.” William was right—she was too pragmatic for such drivel.
Marriage, after all, was a union of interests. And she was no starry-eyed girl full of illusions and fairy tales. She’d been raised by encyclopedia.
Still, it would have been nice for William to say something a bit loverlike or fanciful. Some kind of compliment about her eyes or . . . well, something.
John approached and lowered to the floor, kneeling with his thighs spread. “What can I do?”
“If you’ll lift him off the floor just enough to—yes, that’s perfect.” Reina pulled away the wet diaper-napkin, uncorked a brown glass bottle, and dampened a clean cloth.
“What is that?” John asked as she wiped the baby’s bottom.
“Rosewater, for soothing. One of the abuelas makes it.”
John smiled down at Benjamin. “No wonder you smell so good.” He held the tiny ankles in one hand while Reina slid a new napkin beneath him and sprinkled him with rice powder. As soon as John lowered him, Reina drew the cloth up between his legs and pulled the back corners over the front. She carefully pinned it, keeping her fingers between the sharp steel point and Benjamin’s skin.
