The Lonely Duke Waited Months for His Bride — Then She Arrived With His Missing Son
Chapter 19
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Marian's eyes filled, but he did not hurry."You argue with me, and sometimes you are terribly stubborn." He gave a nervous smile. "I have missed that. I have missed you."Marian looked down at her hands. He waited until she looked up again."I want the quiet mornings, even the ones when we quarrel about nothing. If you never rescue another person, never set another account right, never perform a single duty expected of a duchess, I would still wish to spend my life beside you."Marian turned toward the window, her eyes stinging. His words reached the part of her that feared ordinary days."And if I cannot become the duchess society expects?" she whispered."No." His voice caught. "I want you, Marian, not a perfect duchess."She turned back. "I was not entirely fair, either. I decided what your silence meant before asking you again. And when I am frightened," she rubbed her thumb against her glove, "leaving seems easier than trusting.""Sometimes it is strength.""Sometimes, but sometimes it is simply fear wearing a respectable coat."He smiled faintly. "Then we are both very well dressed."She laughed through her tears; it broke the last terrible stiffness between them."And when we disagree again?" Marian asked. "If I say no, even when you believe you know what is best?""Then I shall ask why, and listen before deciding anything that belongs to us both. I may dislike your answer; I will not announce a different one to the county."She studied his face. "You did that for me when you thought I was leaving.""I ought to have done it long before. And I can promise to answer honestly, even when the answer frightens me." He took one step nearer. "Marian Whitlock, would you choose to be my wife? Not because my son needs you, or because anyone expects it, or because you have done so much for us—because you love me, if you do.""I do," she said. "I love you, Benedict. I want to stay because you want me, and because I want you, too."He lifted her hand, suddenly shy. "May I kiss you?""Yes."Their kiss was gentle and unhurried. Outside, difficulties remained, but now they could face them together.Later, Oliver heard the news. He leaped from his chair and embraced Marian, then remembered himself and asked whether he was still allowed to call her by her name."Always," she told him.He grinned. "Good, because I have practiced writing it."Benedict watched, grateful for their shared joy.September ended with the ordinary business of a household learning to be happy.On the 26th, the replacement lender released the funds. On the 29th, Finch arranged payment of the 2,400 pounds owed to Dacre and obtained a receipt. The debt was discharged, not the work ahead: Lower Mill still needed repairs, Benedict's private investments secured the new loan, and the disputed supplier accounts remained with his solicitor.When he explained the arrangements to Marian, he did not begin by asking her to admire the outcome. "Would you like to see the papers?" he asked."Another day. You owe me a sight of your sketchbook."