She recognized the scrivener’s hand, all flowing and elegant. She unfolded the thick vellum until it hung down to her lap. It took a good while to make it all out. Partly that was because she kept going over sections, to be sure she understood it.
“This looks like a contract with Mr. Lovelace, Kevin.”
“That it is. One quarter of the enterprise to him, and one quarter of the company he will form to make it comes to us.” He held up another folded document. “The other side of the bargain is here.”
She set down the vellum, astonished. “You spoke with him?”
“A very shrewd woman advised me to. It took several days to get to it, but I eventually read his proposal.”
“Did it take you that long to stop being angry?”
He took the vellum from her and set it on the table. He leaned forward until he was so close that their noses almost touched. “It took me that long to begin conquering my shock at discovering you had left.”
His closeness, and the warmth of his breath, made her tremble. “Did you conclude Mr. Lovelace’s proposal was a good plan?”
“I could not deny it was very practical. Sensible. Convenient. So he and I talked, and I viewed his works. I even traveled to Shropshire to see the rest of it. You were right, Rosamund. He will make it well.”
She bit her lower lip to force some control on her stupid love. “I did not mean for you to spend days in shock. That was not my intention.”
“I know. Yet there it was. I did not want to face that you might be gone for good. I disappointed you in more ways than I know, I think.”
“You didn’t. You were true to your word. To our agreement. As for the enterprise, I never really expected you to share that easily.” Her mouth quivered when she tried to smile. “You once said you were never enthralled by women, except that brief madness with Lady Greenough. I understand why too. You had bigger things to captivate you. Of course you would be possessive about your creations. I feel that way about my shop and my hats.”
He listened so carefully, as if every word she spoke mattered. A small frown formed part way through and his attention on her became more intense, if that were possible.
He sat back and turned his attention inward, the way he so often did. She had never been jealous of how he could isolate himself in his own mind. She had always found that mysterious and even exciting.
He gazed over at her again. “Rosamund, did you leave because you thought the enterprise meant more to me than you did?”
“No, because I accepted that of course it did. It is why we married, after all.”
He sat back and closed his eyes.
He stood abruptly and paced away, then stood with his back to her and his hands on his hips. She heard a deep sigh. She had exasperated him again. She couldn’t imagine how.
He turned again just as sharply and walked back. He threw aside his chair and dropped to one knee in front of her. He took both her hands in his.
“Rosamund, it is why we said we married, but for me, this has been much more than a practical match. I wanted you from the first time I saw you. With each revelation of who and what you were, I wanted you more. I did not lie when I told you I was never enthralled, but I could never say it now without lying, because I have been enthralled for a long time with you. Captivated. Enchanted. You have stolen my heart, darling, and the better part of my soul. I can’t promise I will never be rude, or angry, or all the things everyone accuses me of being. I can only promise that I will love you forever, wherever you are.”
He bent and kissed her hands and left his lips there, pressed against her skin. Her eyes blurred as happiness spilled through her, and her heart released its love. It touched her that he had declared himself like this. He hadn’t even asked her to return to him. He just wanted her to know this, no matter what she did or where she went.
She kissed his crown. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I could not bear pretending I was not in love. Not speaking of it and accepting pleasure and friendship, but denying this other emotion that overwhelms me. If you love me too, I won’t have to.”
He looked up. The relief in his expression twisted her heart.
“You will never have to.” A moment’s hesitation. A flicker of caution. “Will you come home?”
She nodded.
He smiled, then glanced at the bed. That smile turned wicked.
Laughing and crying, she plucked at the tie of his cravat. “You may be too good to demand your marital rights, but I am not.” She worked at the knot. “What will you do without the enterprise to occupy you? Pipes?”
“And other things.” He shed his frock coat, then eased her feet out of her shoes. “I will leave the resulting practicalities to you. We are a good match, Rosamund. Perhaps the duke guessed we might be.”
His hands slid up beneath her dress and sought her garters. She squirmed when they got high enough to remind her of what awaited.
Her fingers trembled while she went to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. “Did you know that there are men in the City who would purchase a share of any invention you had, sight unseen and ignorant of its purpose?”
“That is ridiculous.”
His shirt occupied part of her attention. She made quick work of his upper garments, so his naked chest was available to her gaze and her hands. “You must have impressed some people even while you insulted most of them.”
He rolled down her stockings and cast them aside. “I can’t imagine how. However, it is good to know that if
