Page 73 of Crash Landing
“I haven’t changed my mind, Florence. We are betrothed, if you still wish it. We will marry, if you accept to have me as your husband.”
She nodded, her expression showing her relief.
And now it would be up to him to accompany her to London and make certain her royal benefactor did not renege on the bargain.
Angry as he was about this entire affair, he would never allow anyone, not even the Princess of Wales, to cheat Florence. She had poured her heart into this assignment and risked her life for her worthless brother and a pair of cheating lovers.
Was this worth placing her life in danger? He doubted anything would change within her family and how they treated her. Nor would Lady Simmons reform her ways and stop taking on lovers.
Florence withdrew her handkerchief to dab at her tears. “Thank you. I do wish to marry you and gratefully accept you with all my heart. Are you positively sure you want me?”
“Yes, love,” he said, his voice achingly gentle because he knew how fragile Florence was at the moment. “I’m sure. Never a doubt.”
“Then this is finally real?” Andrew asked, smiling.
Florence glanced at Trajan uncertainly.
“Yes,” he said, taking hold of her hand and leaning in to give her a soft kiss on the lips, “it’s real.”
The tears now streamed openly down Florence’s face, but she was smiling, too.
His cousins cheered.
Trajan asked her the question she was most eager to answer. “Did you get the letters?”
“Yes! HermiaandSylvia were brilliant. They played their roles to the hilt.”
“You were bravest, my dear,” Hermia said, casting Florence a doting smile.
“I could not have succeeded without the two of you. But I’m so worried about Sylvia. There is no telling what Frampton will do to her if he suspects her complicity in any way.”
“He won’t,” Hermia assured her niece. “He does not even realize anything has been stolen. We have just pulled off the perfect crime, to which we owe our undying gratitude to you, Weymouth, for coming up with the brilliant idea.”
“Yes,undying,” Florence repeated, casting him a doting smile. “Your plan has kept us all alive, including Sylvia. She is safe for the moment, and hopefully for always.”
She turned to his cousins, also smiling at them. “Sebastian, your embroidery basket idea was very clever, too.”
The cousins burst into grins and laughter. Nathan and Andrew patted their younger brother on the back and ruffled his hair. “You are not so dumb after all,” Andrew teased.
“But you ladies were the ones who carried it off brilliantly,” Nathan remarked.
By their wide, hyena-like smiles, Trajan expected the lads were half in love with Florence themselves, and quite in awe of both Newton ladies.
Florence moved over to sit beside her aunt. “Hermia! Your gown is soaking wet. I did not realize so much of the tea had spilled onto you in the tumble, and—”
“Gad, Hermia! Why did you not mention it?” Trajan silently berated himself for being too busy behaving like an angry beast to notice her discomfort. He had not even given a thought to her gown being wet.
But of course it was. She had purposely knocked over that tea cart and spilled tea everywhere. Her gown happened to be a tea color, so he hadn’t even thought… Blast, where was his mind?
Hermia remained quite calm and did not appear at all put out. “No, dear boy. It is nothing. This discussion is far more important.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “It can wait. I’ll ring for a maid to—”
“No, Weymouth. Let’s finish this first,” Hermia insisted. “Florence needs to unload those letters as soon as possible.”
“What’s the plan?” Andrew asked.
“Do you have one?” Nathan added.
