Page 102 of A Scandalous Bargain
“I should probably go,” Beatrix said, taking her arm from Thomas.
Thomas didn’t want that, but for those still watching, they would see her going into his house unchaperoned. “I’ve never hated rules more than right now.”
She laughed. “Before I go, my answer is yes.”
He hadn’t realized that she didn’t give him an answer. So much had happened in the last half hour. He was free. No, not free. He was tangled hopelessly and helplessly with this woman before him, and he didn’t want to be any other way.
“I could kiss you.”
“But you won’t because you’re far too proper.” She grinned. “Why don’t you come for dinner?”
“Ah, Beatrix?” Harry interrupted. “It’s Thursday.”
They typically had dinner at Aylesbury House with Harry’s family on Thursdays. She turned her head toward him. “Are we going tonight? I thought you were on a honeymoon.”
Harry shrugged. “Selina and I decided this morning that we would go. She likes my family, what can I say?” He inclined his head toward Thomas. “Why don’t you come too? Since you’re going to be part of the family soon.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“See you later,” Beatrix started to go, but Thomas stopped her.
He snagged her hand and brought it to his lips. “Regan will be delighted to know you will be her mother. She’s been asking when you will return.”
“Oh, Tom.” Her eyes flashed first with apprehension, and then with hope. “Can I really be her mother?”
“I have no doubt you will be wonderful.” Thomas knew in that moment that he’d made the right decision—the best decision of his life. “I meant what I said to the duke,” he said softly. “I know precisely who you are, and I want every part of you.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me.” She blew him a kiss and then joined Harry as he walked his horse toward Cavendish Square.
Thomas watched them until they were gone from sight. Then he turned and strode inside, wondering how difficult it would be to obtain a special license.
* * *
Following dinner at Aylesbury house, the extended family gathered in the library. Everyone was present, including Rafe and Harry’s brother, the Viscount Northwood. But Beatrix scarcely noticed anyone but Tom. They’d been seated side by side at dinner, of course, and had spent the course of the meal furtively touching each other under the table.
Now, in the drawing room, Thomas addressed everyone with Beatrix by his side. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner this evening. While you are no doubt already aware, I wanted to formally announce the betrothal of myself and Miss Beatrix Whitford. She has made me the happiest man alive.”
“Not possible,” Harry said, grinning from across the room, his arm around Selina, who elbowed him gently.
Thomas laughed. “Very well. I know this betrothal will spur a tidal wave of gossip given the abbreviated length of my mourning period, but as my Aunt Charity has assured me—I will be forgiven since I’m a man with a small child.” He glanced toward his aunt, who’d also joined them for dinner.
“Because you are clearly in desperate need of a wife,” North cracked.
“As it happens, I am.” Thomas looked down at Beatrix. “I’m desperately in need ofthiswife.”
Beatrix felt her heart would burst. She could notwaitto get him alone and hoped that might be possible later.
“Because of that,” Thomas said, addressing the room once more, “I will be obtaining a special license tomorrow so that we may be wed on Saturday. Perhaps that will give the gossips something else to talk about it.” He winked at Beatrix, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let them talk about anything they wish,” she said.
“My goodness, that is quick,” Lady Aylesbury said. “How can we plan a proper wedding breakfast?”
“I would prefer something small—just those who are present, in fact. And my daughter, of course. The wedding will take place at my house as well,” he said.
He and Beatrix had discussed this on the way to dinner. She’d ridden to Tom’s house with Selina and Harry. They’d all then walked the short distance to Aylesbury House on Mount Street.
“That sounds lovely,” Harry’s sister Rachel said. “So many weddings.” She looked at their brother North, her brow arched. “I think it must be your turn.”
