“No, my darling.” His voice was low and fierce. “You have that wrong—every bit as wrong as I’ve ever been. You deserve to be loved exactly as I love you.” He pressed a fervent kiss to her fingers. “To madness and beyond.”
A smile threatened to break through her seriousness, but determinedly, she went on, “Be that as it may, as a result of my, apparently misguided, acceptance of our half love-match, I never pressed for more in our marriage. I never looked for your love or did anything to encourage it, because that would have meant admitting that beneath my bravado, behind my attempt to dictate my own expectations, I really did want a proper Cynster love-match, one with love on both sides.”
She closed her other hand over their linked fingers and looked into his eyes. “You showing me you loved me, then declaring that and convincing me you truly did, opened a door in my mind and pushed what I really yearned for into the light. Over the past day since you told me you loved me, through my assumption that you’d betrayed me, through my heedless flight and all that flowed from that, I’ve realized that, no matter how often I’ve told myself that I’ve been happy with the way our marriage has been, underneath, I’ve always craved the full Cynster experience—to love and be loved.”
He searched her eyes. “That was why seeing me with Madame Faberge affected you so powerfully. You thought I’d offered you the most shining of prizes—the one that your heart has always truly craved—only to cruelly snatch it away.”
She nodded. Turning her hand in his hold, she squeezed his fingers. “You’ve told me your truth. My truth—the one I’ve finally seen clearly and that I’m ready to own to—is that I want to be loved by you as much and to the same extent as I love you. What you’re offering me now is all and everything my heart truly desires.”
His smile was everything she needed it to be. Raising their linked hands, he brushed a gentler kiss to her fingers. “It seems that in the matter of loving each other, we’ve been playing games—two separate, idiotic, and unnecessary games—you and I.”
She nodded again. “So it seems.”
There was a glow in her eyes, a softness in her features, a quality in her smile that Devlin had never seen before—as if, through the exchange of their hearts’ secrets, the true Therese had been freed.
Freed to love—freed to be loved.
He drew in a breath and, all but lost in the glory of her eyes, declared, “We are a pair, right enough. But our reality, my darling, is here and now. Whatever our past mistakes, our past weaknesses and shortcomings, we’ve seen the light. Can we go forward from here?”
Her smile conveyed all the joy and ready agreement he could wish for. “That would be my greatest, most fervent wish.”
He basked in the warmth of her silver-blue gaze. “It’s mine as well, so I believe that settles it.” He rose from the chair and, without releasing her hand, swung to prop his hip beside her on the bed, then leaned over her and kissed the lips she tipped her head back and offered.
A long, slow, achingly simple kiss ensued, one laden with love, acknowledged and claimed, and with the shining promise of a glorious future informed by, anchored by, and invested with the irrefutable power of mutual love. The caress spun out and on, each feeding the other, each hungry and needing, until reluctantly, he raised his head.
He drew in a strained breath, glanced at the white band encircling her head, and grimaced. “Sadly, your wound precludes any immediate demonstration of our mutual ardor.”
Therese stared at him. “Really?” When he tried to ease back, she gripped his hand tighter. “It doesn’t hurt that much. Truly.”
He hesitated, and she hoped, but then his features firmed and he shook his head. “I’ve no doubt that Sanderson will call later today to check on your recovery, and if he discovers his handiwork dramatically disarranged, he isn’t above hauling me over the coals, earl or not.”
She huffed, released him, and slumped on the pillows, openly frustrated. “He’s not above lecturing me, either.”
Devlin grinned. “Never mind.” He leaned over her again and dropped a kiss on her nose. Sitting back, he met her gaze. “As we’re already married, we can’t have another wedding, but I intend to tell you that I love you several times each day—just so you don’t forget—and I will endeavor to show you as well, in all that I do, every single day for the rest of our lives.”
She smiled gloriously; as vows went, she was delighted with that one. She reached out and caressed the rough line of his stubbled jaw. “And for as long as we live, I’ll treasure your love and love you in return, with all my heart.”
“That,” he said, capturing her hand and brushing a kiss to her fingertips, “is all we can do and all we can ask.”
She drew in a deeper breath, then glanced at the window. “I’d better get up and get washed and dressed—and you need to wash and change as well.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I was thinking before you woke that you look thoroughly disreputable.”
He laughed. “All your fault, my lady.” But he obediently rose from the bed, retaining his hold on her hand to help her up.
Making use of the support, she pushed back the covers, swung her legs over the bed’s side, and sat on the edge.
“How’s your head?”
She looked up to see him peering anxiously at her face. “It aches a bit, but is by no means unbearable.”
He didn’t look convinced.
Ignoring that, she poked at the band. “What did Sanderson say?”
Devlin described the wound and Sanderson’s predictions. “He said you would probably wake sometime in the afternoon.”
She opened her eyes wide. “What time is it?”
He glanced at the clock on her dresser across the room. “Nearly half past eleven.”
“Good Lord! The children will be wondering what’s become of me.” She looked at him. “Of us.”
“I’m sure they will have slept in.” Dryly, he added, “They had a disturbed night, if you recall.”
She huffed and waved a hand at him, urging him to step back and help her up.
His lips set, but he grasped her hands and drew her to her feet.
He shifted to her side and slung an arm about her waist, clearly worried that she might faint again, but learning all she had, understanding all she now did of herself as well as him, had filled her with confidence and calmed her previously turbulent emotions. She felt strong and steady.
She smiled reassuringly, gently eased her hand from his hold, and stepped away from his hovering support. “Can you ring for Parker?”
He looked adorably uncertain, but after waiting for several moments to confirm she was steady on her feet, he crossed the room to the bellpull. “She would, of course, have been here, watching over you, but I ordered her away. I wanted us to be alone when you woke.”
“Thank you,” she replied with feeling. He tugged the bellpull, then she waved him away. “You’d better go and make yourself presentable, or you’ll frighten the staff, let alone the children.”
He hesitated; she could see him debating whether or not to stay until Parker arrived.
She hid a grin. “Go—or Parker will be shocked and then disapproving. You know she will.”