Page 88 of Seduce Me
“Join? Solomon’s?” Esme’s hand moved to her heart. “But you do not allow women,” she said softly.
“There is, on occasion, opportunity to make exceptions,” Jensen said.
“Then we accept,” Esme said, coming to her feet. “Thank you.”
Fielding stood and put his hand on Esme’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Hope,” she said as she looked up into his eyes.
His heart swelled with love. He’d come close to losing her too many times. He’d never make that mistake again. If he had to spend the rest of his life proving to her that he loved her, he would do precisely that.
Jensen stood and left the room momentarily, then came back with a tattered brown book. “The butler will explain to both of you the layout of the building and all the rooms within. You will be given the password, which changes weekly. You may return any time you like. This is your club now.”
“Thank you,” Fielding said. He held the envelope out to Jensen. “I believe the previous payment more than covered my expenses.”
Jensen nodded and took the money. “Mr. Grey, one more thing. I do believe this belongs to you,” Jensen said, holding out the book.
Fielding flipped it open. There within the ratty pages were notes and drawings and diagrams and equations, all in his father’s pen. “My father’s journal. I thought it was lost in the cave-in.”
“Our men recovered it,” Jensen said. “We’d been saving it for you, for the appropriate time. I know you said you were retired, but in case someday you want to finish his work. He had gotten very close to unearthing the Templar’s gold.”
For the second time that day, Fielding was at a loss for words.
They were seated in the carriage on the way back to Max’s house. They’d spend one more night there, and then she could return home. A hint of wistfulness passed over her. Would it be the last night she’d see Fielding?
Hope. She had worn the band of hope. So the desire they’d felt couldn’t have been part of any curse. It had been real. Authentic need. And it was finally time to tell Fielding how she felt.
“Perhaps that’s why we were able to succeed,” she offered. “The hope from my band.”
“You were so worried that my desire for you was manufactured by the curse. I told you I wanted you. Honestly wanted you.” He pulled her to his lap. “I still do.”
She felt the proof of his desire pressing into her bottom.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice raw with honesty. “I thought I’d lost you yesterday, and I can’t face that again.”
She didn’t want to lose him either, but it was time for her to have what she truly longed for. “I don’t want to be your mistress, Fielding,” she said. “I might have once believed that was enough for me, but not any longer. I love you; I want you to love me. Anything short of that, I can’t accept.” She ran her hand down his cheek. “It’s all right, though. We had a lovely time together, and I’ll cherish the memories forever. But you’ve changed me; this experience changed me.”
He nodded gravely. “You deserve everything you want, everything that has been denied you.”
Pain knotted in her stomach. He wasn’t arguing with her. Let her leave the carriage without crying, that’s all she asked. If she stayed cradled in his arms much longer, she’d end up back in his bed, and it would be even more difficult to walk away. She tried to remove herself from his lap, but his arms stayed tightly wrapped around her.
“You need to let me go,” she said.
“No doubt I’ll be a wretched husband.”
“Precisely,” she said, and then his words penetrated. “Husband?”
He smiled, those dimples of his piercing his scruffy cheeks, and she thought her heart might explode.
“Esme, I love you. I have no doubt you’ll drive me to Bedlam, but it will be a hell of a ride. Marry me.”
The tears she’d tried to keep at bay came despite her best efforts. “Do you mean it? Truly, you want me to marry you?”
“I’m quite serious. Be my wife.” His expression was so gentle, his eyes so full of love for her. “I can’t offer you much in the way of name and reputation, since I am a bastard”—he gave her a wry smile—“but I have plenty of money. Will you still have me?”
“I don’t need a reputation. I only need you.”
“Do you worry that someday”—he paused—“I might change? Become more like him?”
“The Raven? Of course not,” she said.
“But he loved my mother once, and losing her drove him to—” He shook his head, unable to finish the thought.
“You’re not going to lose me. Even still, you aren’t your father. Now the man who raised you, I suspect there are probably similarities there. I love you—Fielding, the man you are right now, and the man you’ll be tomorrow.” She flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Say it again.”
“What?” he asked. “That you love me.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
