Page 79 of This Earl of Mine

“Jesus. Come here.” He enfolded her in his arms, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her throat closed and tears stung her eyes. She buried her face in the curve of his neck, trying to hide the damnable weakness, but he wouldn’t allow it. He caught her facein his palms and turned it up. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her temple. His hold on her was so tight, it was almost painful, as if he was trying to absorb her pain into himself, her tears.

After a moment he leaned back, and his expression was as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I would die for you,” he said simply. “Don’t you know that by now?”

It took her slow brain a moment to assimilate his words. “Wh-what?” She blinked. “What did you say?”

“I would die for you,” he repeated. “There’s only a few people I can say that about in this world, but you’re one of them, Georgiana Wylde. I love you.” He pressed a reverent kiss to her lips. “I don’t expect you to do anything about it,” he added quickly. “We can still keep to our agreement. You can leave me whenever you want. I just thought you should know, that’s all.”

Joy exploded in her heart, and elation made her breathless. “I loveyou,” she breathed, and felt him jerk against her. He stared at her, stupefied, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Then, he closed his eyes as if in torment.

“You can’t,” he said brokenly. “That would be stupid. And you’re not a stupid woman. You’re a woman who can run a shipping empire, calculate interest payments, haggle for silk. You’re far too clever to love someone like me.”

“I love you,” she said stoutly. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He raked a hand through his dripping hair and groaned. “We cannot possibly be together. Don’t you see? God, I hate your damned money!”

He let her go abruptly, turned on his heel and paced away, then pivoted and strode back to her, his expression thunderous. “How can I possibly prove that it’s you that I want? I can’t ask you to give it all away, just so I can stay with you without it. The only way we could reasonablybe together would be if I had the same fortune as you. There would be equality. But that will never happen. I’ll never have a fortune like yours.”

Georgie wrapped her arms around her body, missing his touch. “You’re thinking about this all wrong.” Her eyes were brimming with tears, but she gave him a watery smile. “Just for a moment, imagine what it would be like if our places were reversed. Ifyouwere the one with an embarrassing amount of money. What if you knew, in your heart, that you loved me? Wouldn’t you want to share everything you had with me? Wouldn’t you want to share your body, your life—everything it entailed—with me?”

She gained confidence as she spoke. The words tumbled straight from her heart; she was certain of their rightness. He faced her, chest heaving, fists clenched at his side. But at least he was listening.

“Think of our marriage vows,” she said. “Neither of us really meant them when we said them—I barely paid attention—but the answer was right there.” Her voice was reedy, choked with emotion, but she soldiered on, desperate to make him understand, terrified of losing him.

“For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. You’d stay with me if I were poor and sick, Benedict, I know you would. So, why won’t you stay with me when I’m healthy and rich?” She shook her head. “It’s illogical. And besides which, it’s too late.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re married, for better or for worse, so it’s just something you’re going to have to get used to. I refuse to let you leave me now, after all this.”

Chapter 42.

Benedict studied the woman in front of him and felt as though his chest would crack open, his heart was beating so hard. Her cap had come off somewhere during their adventures and her furious diatribe had left her with flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.

“I love you. You love me,” she said crossly. “I fail to see the problem.”

A droplet of water slid down the side of her nose and down to the corner of her mouth, and he wanted to lick it away but he made one last-ditch effort to dissuade her. She could do so much better than him—a penniless rogue. “Men are supposed to provide for their women. That’s the way society works. You should marry a man with a fortune equal to your own.”

She made an inelegant snort through her nose. “Oh, stuff and nonsense. This is the modern age, Benedict. The world is changing.” She saw he was about to argue and raised her hand. “I agree that marryingonlyfor money, with no other sort of compatibility, is a huge mistake.”

She had that right. His own parents were a case in point. His father might have supported his mother financially, but he hadn’t provided for her emotionally. He hadn’t loved and cherished her. He’d never been there for her through life’s ups and downs.

Georgie’s expression was an adorable mixture of frustration and pleading. “I don’t need you to provide for me financially. I need you toloveme. I need you to love me so much that you can overlook the ridiculous amount of money I have and accept that it’s just part and parcel of who I am. Can you do that? Please.”

It was the “please” that broke him; Benedict almost fell to his knees. She didn’t have to beg him for anything. He was hers, body and soul. Happiness, acceptance, trickled through him, melting his resistance like a spring thaw.

“I suppose I must,” he said, trying to joke, but his voice broke halfway through, giving him away. “Because I really can’t imagine living without you.”

Her smile was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. She slanted him a teasing, haughty glance from beneath her lashes. “You do realize that you’ve never actually proposed to me, don’t you?”

He frowned. “You’re right.”

He sank to his knees, there on the grass, and watched her brows lift in surprise. It struck him that he was no better than poor, besotted Simeon Pettigrew, standing outside in the rain. Here he was, wet and wounded, offering himself, lacking even fancy clothes or clever words.

He took her hand in his. “It will come as no surprise that I have no expectation of a sudden inheritance of a gold mine,” he said gruffly. “Or even any army pension. I still have a bundle of debts. My profits from the Tricorn Club are being used to recover the family estate. That said, please take this as a formal request: GeorgianaCaversteed Wylde, would you please do me the immense honor of becoming my wife? Again. Forever.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Yes.”

He stood and pulled her in for a kiss so sweet, so full of promise and longing, that it took his breath away. Every one of his senses reached out to her and became entangled. Her skin, her hair, her lips. When they pulled apart, he shook his head, incredulous, almost afraid to trust the happiness blooming inside him. “I can’t wait to be able to call you my wife in public, not just in my head,” he growled. “I’m sick of having to sneak around. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Her breath came out in a rush. “Yes.”

“Come back to the Tricorn with me. Let me love you.”

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