“I didn’t even realize I was lonely until I met you.” She touched his cheek. “But I think I was—am—strong and confident too. I’m confident that I love you. I was not, however, confident that you loved me. I was sure you didn’t, especially when I learned you’d kept the truth of your family from me.”
Agony and regret washed through him. “If I could go back and tell you everything from the start, I would.”
One of her brows arched. “From the start? You would tell me about your family’s troubles when I was trussed up like a pheasant? I think that’s what you said, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Perhaps not at that precise moment.” He grew serious once more. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you. I vow to tell you every day, multiple times a day, for the rest of our lives.” He kissed her again, a leisurely exploration filled with promise.
She pulled back and looked up at him intently. “What about the baby? Are you still afraid?”
“Yes.” He wouldn’t lie to her. Not anymore. “But with you, I’m less so. My great-aunts have also pointed out that I am not—probably—afflicted with the family illness. It seems I’m merely, ah, emotional. Or can be, anyway. And that while I have made some rather poor decisions, they don’t compare to anything my father did. They don’t think I demonstrate any behavior that’s out of the ordinary for most people.”
“How lovely of them.”
“Yes, it was, actually.” Bennet was extremely grateful to them.
She laid her hand against his cheek. “You’ve been alone in your fear and worry for so long, shouldering a terrible burden, even when your father was alive, I suspect. But you’re the one who holds them all together. Don’t you see how wonderful that is? How much love and strength it takes to be who you already are?”
How he wanted to believe that. “You see a better man than I am, but then that’s been true since I kidnapped you.”
“You are a far better man than you think, but I suppose I shall just have to remind you every day.”
“I will never tire of that,” he said fiercely. “To think that I get to spend every day with you is a joy I never imagined.”
“I know neither of us wanted this, that if not for a series of misfortunes, we would not be here right now. But I am not sorry.”
“You say misfortunes, and I would have agreed. I told you I was unlucky. I don’t think that anymore. I look at those misfortunes and see the greatest luck a man could have. All of it led me to you. To us.” He put his hand over her belly and thought of the life growing inside her. “Whatever the future brings, we will manage it—together.”
She stood on her toes and touched her lips to his. “Together.”
Epilogue
Prudence jumped up from her chair the moment she heard masculine voices. She rushed to the entry hall as the Duke of Evesham came from Bennet’s study, Bennet following behind him.
“Your husband made an excellent case,” the duke said, stopping near Prudence.
“He’s very committed to Aberforth Place—and to his family.” Prudence wished she could have been party to their meeting, but knew the duke wouldn’t have approved. He saw financial discussions as a purely masculine domain.
“So it seems.” The duke turned to Bennet and shook his hand. “I look forward to your first report.”
“Thank you, sir.” Bennet smiled and cast Prudence a look that was a mix of joy and relief.
Prudence wanted to throw her arms around her uncle. “We’ll see you at dinner tonight?” They were gathering at the Wexfords’ for a celebration later.
“Briefly,” he said with a slight scowl. “I don’t like to intrude on you young people, but I’ll stop in before I go to my club.”
Gathering her courage, Prudence went to buss his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle,” she whispered.
He grunted in response before taking his leave.
Prudence turned to her husband. “That went well, I take it?”
“Very well.” Bennet swept her into his arms and twirled her about the entry hall.
Laughing, she begged him to put her down. “Don’t make me ill again.” That morning, Prudence had suffered her first sickness from the babe. There was no denying it now—not that anyone had been doing that.
Bennet set her down and kissed her soundly. “I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. Probably never.”
She grinned up at him, basking in his elation. “How’s that?”
“I’m not sure I can describe it. I actually feel like I can breathe, that I don’t have to worry whether I’ll be able to keep Aunt Agatha in the only home she remembers or if I’ll have to force Aunt Judith and Great-Aunt Esther to move to Aberforth Place. No one wants that,” he added drily.
Prudence giggled. “I’m so glad the duke agreed to give you a loan.”
“Not only that, but the terms were quite favorable.”
“What did he mean about a report?” she asked.
“I’m to send quarterly reports detailing my progress. It’s to be expected, and honestly, I’m glad to have his input. My father was woefully inept at running the estate, and I was too young to learn much before my grandfather died.”
The door opened suddenly, and in walked Flora and Minerva, trailed by Mrs. Hennings. Minerva’s squirrels peered from her apron, and Flora carried a basket of flowers. They both looked delighted. Mrs. Hennings appeared slightly beleaguered.
“I see you found plenty of flowers in Russell Square.” Bennet kept his arm around Prudence as he spoke to his great-aunts.
Flora nodded vigorously. “Oh yes, it was worth the extra walk. It’s much larger than Bloomsbury. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must begin preserving these beauties.” She ambled to the staircase hall and would continue up to the drawing room, half of which she’d commandeered for her flower pressing.
Minerva patted George. “Mr. George seems to have found a friend today. We will need to return tomorrow so they can see each other.”
“Mrs. Hennings can’t accompany you about town every day,” Bennet said evenly.
Blinking, Minerva looked from him to Prudence and back again. “Then you or Prudence shall have to do it.” With a happy smile, she sailed from the hall.
“Thank you, my lord,” Mrs. Hennings said. “I should attend to some chores.”
Prudence stopped her. “Just a moment, Mrs. Hennings. I wanted to let you know that I met with Jane today. She is handing in her notice to Lady Basildon.” The day after the spectacle at the Tilden ball, Bennet had suggested they hire the housekeeper’s daughter. Frankly, the household needed another maid, and Jane could also serve as Prudence’s lady’s maid. While Prudence had resisted at first, she liked Mrs. Hennings so much that she’d agreed to meet with Jane. Now, having met the pleasant and enthusiastic young lady, Prudence was eager to have her here. Furthermore, poor Jane was anxious to be away from her gossipmongering current employer.
Mrs. Henning’s eyes lit, and she clapped her hands together. “I’m so pleased—and grateful—your ladyship. Thank you.”