Chapter Twenty-One
As Chester, the Cravens’ butler, opened the door, he smiled. “My lady. I didn’t know to expect you. Please, come in. Can I take your bonnet? Your betrothed is in the sitting room with the Misters Craven and their wives.”
Clearly, Chester hadn’t heard that we had called off the wedding. For a moment, uncertainty stabbed at me and I hesitated on the threshold of the house. A carriage rattled past, reminding me that I was standing in the doorway for everyone to see. I stepped inside, but took my time untangling the ribbon securing my bonnet. It granted me time to think.
Perhaps I should have waited and approached him after he had finished his business with the Craven brothers. However, Annabel and Winifred had informed me that today he would sign the new contract naming him a partner in their greenhouse. After that, I might lose him to his plants for weeks. It had to be now.
After I passed my bonnet to Chester for safekeeping, I thanked him and meandered down the corridor to the sitting room on my own. I knew where it was. Voices spilled out of the open doorway as I approached.
One of the Craven brothers asked, “Sutton? Is there something wrong with the contract? I can have my solicitor look it over again.”
Annabel added, her voice sly, “Or he could ask Mary for help. She’s as sharp as a steel trap when it comes to the law.”
My knees trembled at the sound of my name. I leaned against the wall. Should I leave? I could find another time to approach him, a better time.
Coward. My heart quickened at the thought of seeing him, but fear held me in thrall as the silence in the room lengthened. What if he didn’t want to see me? If I didn’t mean as much to him as he did to me… Over the years, I’d sat at a lot of card tables, but nothing seemed like quite a gamble as this.
After a prolonged moment, Edwin said, “I’ll sign the contract. Mary and I aren’t on speaking terms.”
From only his voice, it was impossible to tell how he felt. Was he wistful at the sound of my name? Did he regret the way we’d parted? Perhaps he’d returned to living his life precisely as he had been before we’d reunited on such an elemental level. I couldn’t do the last. I had to take the chance.
“Don’t you wish you were?” one of the women asked, her voice too small for me to identify. My pulse roared in my ears as I waited for the answer.
After an impossibly long moment, he answered, “I can’t make her love me, Winifred.”
You were the person who refused to admit that this was something more. Had he had a change of heart? Or did he still want a marriage of convenience—not love?
Although I was often brave in the face of other people’s dangers, when it came to speaking out for something I wanted, my voice fled behind my cowering heart. Swallowing hard, I forced my legs to move and lead me into the doorway, where everyone could see.
Edwin’s back was turned to me as he bent to use a side table to sign the contract. He did so with a flourish of the pen, then handed both to one of the Craven brothers, hovering near him. Annabel and Winifred sipped tea from the sofa. When they noticed me, they smiled. I managed a shaky smile in return.
As Edwin straightened, a thousand butterflies—or perhaps bees—took wing in my stomach. I swallowed twice before I managed to ask, “How does it feel to obtain your spot in the greenhouse? It’s what you wanted.”
At my soft voice, Edwin turned. He looked as though he’d been hit by a carriage. He seemed nothing short of flabbergasted to see me. He didn’t answer.
Over the thunderous roar of my heart, I barely heard the sound of my voice as I added, “You held up your end of the bargain, but it turns out that isn’t what I wanted, after all.”
His eyebrows knit together. He balled his fists at his side. “Why are you here, Mary?”
Trying to hide the tremor in my fingers, I dipped my hand into the reticule on my wrist and removed a folded scrap of paper, torn from today’s news rag. I offered it to him.
His frown deepened as he accepted and opened it. “I don’t understand.” He glanced up from the page. “What is this?”
“It’s the advertisement I paid to have put in the Times. For people to bring stray animals to me, so I don’t venture into dangerous neighborhoods to retrieve them.”
Edwin folded the paper and thrust it into his pocket. Shutting his eyes, he turned his face heavenward, wearing an expression halfway between relief and disbelief. “Lord, Mary. You finally came to your senses.”
I scowled and crossed my arms. “You’re ruining the gesture. I worked hard on that.”
He stepped closer to cup my cheek in his warm palm. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to consider your safety. I never wanted to stand between you and your purpose. I wanted you to find another way, because I didn’t want to lose you.”
My throat thick, I swallowed before I answered. “You lost me anyway.” My voice was hoarse with the tears I held at bay.
“I know. I’ve been a pigheaded idiot.”
I smiled. “Your words, not mine.” Though I couldn’t disagree. “Perhaps I’ve been a bit stubborn, too.”
He lifted one eyebrow as if to say, A bit?
He did it with a smile, so I forgave the impertinence.
Stroking my cheek, he murmured, “What started as a convenience became much more to me. No one compares to you, Mary. I cherish every part of you, every quirk that makes you unique, even the instinct that makes you step into harm’s way to save another. No one else can make me as happy…or frighten me so thoroughly. I’ve loved you from the day we met and you told me never to kiss you again.” His eyes shone with moisture to match mine. “The best mistake I ever made was breaking that rule and kissing you.”
“Then you admit you kissed me first.”
He laughed. “I did, and I’ll kiss you last, too.” He leaned forward to prove it.
A statement rendered impossible, because I met him halfway, as I always would.
When he lifted his head and I opened my eyes, I fought against a tide of tears. “I love you, Edwin Sutton. You make me happy. You always have.” In the wake of those raw, vulnerable words, I glanced down at our joined hands, fingers intertwined. I must have reached for him during the kiss without realizing. I tilted my face up to meet his gaze again. “Will you marry me? For real, this time?”
He looked perplexed. “Isn’t that my question to ask?”
“You asked last time. It was my turn.”
“This isn’t a competition, Mary.”
I tightened my hand on his, my arm shaking. “Will you marry me, yes or no?”
“Yes. Of course I—”
I caught him by the lapel of his jacket and dragged him lower for another kiss. As his arm wrapped around me, pinning me against his body, reality dimly invaded.
“Do you think they’ve forgotten we’re here?” Annabel whispered.
“Hush,” Winifred hissed in reply. “It’s so romantic.”
“See?” said one of the Craven brothers. “We were right to insist on him marrying, after all.”
Edwin raised his head, casting an arch expression toward the man now lounged on the sofa with his arm around Winifred.
“What?” Mr. Craven—Quentin, if memory served which man belonged to Winifred—shrugged, his expression good natured.
“Don’t tease,” chided the other Mr. Craven. He raised a tumbler he’d just poured himself from the mantle. “What do you say we celebrate the engagement of our new business partner?”
His brother jumped to his feet and rounded to snatch an identical glass for himself. Oh, dear. Now that Edwin’s and my arrangement would prove permanent, I would have to learn how to tell the difference between the two brothers. It seemed we and the Cravens were bound to become very close friends.
And Edwin and I even closer.