Page 59 of When She Was a Governess
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
By the time he’d finished, unshed tears made her eyes glassy.
“I cannot imagine a better gift,” Sophia said. “You are the most thoughtful man. I’ve no idea how you were able to find it in time for our wedding day.”
“Grimshaw is to be thanked. I set him on what I feared an impossible task, but lo and behold, he found it.”
She clutched the book to her chest. “Perhaps you could read to me again tonight? Another poem? One each night?”
“Whenever you wish, I will read to you. But speaking of our nights. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Henry’s stomach did somersaults and his palms were damp with perspiration under his gloves. “With your family at the house and the staff noticing everything we do, I think it would be best if you stayed with me tonight. In my bedchambers.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes searching his. “Is that what you want?”
“It is what I want,” he said firmly.
She looked down at her lap, her hands still clasped, her cheeks almost red. “But I do not understand. Would it be more of this play we’ve partaken in or a…true wedding night?”
“May I speak frankly?”
She glanced up at him. “Please.”
He pried one hand loose from the book and brought it to his mouth. Despite her glove, he could feel how cold her fingers were under the fabric. “I cannot stop thinking about you. In my bed. In my arms. Showing you the pleasures married life can bring. I want to make this marriage real. I know what we agreed upon, but I have changed my mind. However, only if it is what you want. If you don’t want me, I understand and will treat you with the respect you deserve. This is your choice.”
She looked up at him from beneath hooded lids. “You want me?”
“Desperately.”
Her mouth turned up into one of her glorious smiles. “Oh, Henry, I never thought I’d hear you say those words. How I’ve yearned to hear them.”
“You have?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I am drawn to you. In the same ways you are to me. I want to be your wife. I want to know what it’s like to be loved by you.”
“I will show you, dear Sophia. For the rest of my life if you’ll have me.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms right then, to kiss her until neither of them could breathe. But they were nearly home, and he needed to maintain some semblance of control. Tonight. He could wait until tonight.
“Then tonight,” he said, his voice as rough as the uneven stones of the driveway, “there will be no locked doors between us.”
“No locked doors. I do hope I’ll please you.”
“That is not in question.”
The carriage came to a stop. Through the window, the household staff was lined up outside the entrance—Grimshaw,Mrs. Bromley, Mrs. Mills, Davies, the footmen, the maids. All waiting to greet their new mistress.
“They’re all here,” Sophia said. “I hope they do not feel resentment toward me.”
“Everyone in this house adores you,” Henry assured her. “You are the lady of the house now. Everyone will treat you as such.”
“I feel a bit like an imposter.”
“No, my dear, you are perfect. You were born for this,” Henry said.
