“I want to show you my wedding gift to you.”
“What is it?”
“You will have to wait and see, love.”
Eleanor fell silent when Damon refused to reveal anything more. After a while, she realized they were nearing her own special rose garden, the one her brother had created for her when she was ten in order to ease her loneliness. Marcus had given her a rosebush each year afterward on her birthday, as a remembrance of his love.
She wondered why Damon had chosen to bring her here… until they reached her special place. There, adjacent to her own garden, was a patch of newly tilled ground adorned with a similar spiral path. At the very heart of the new spiral, a single rosebush, lush with rich red blooms, had been planted.
Eleanor came to halt, a little stunned. “You are giving me a rosebush as a wedding gift?” she asked Damon.
“Yes. This one is to mark the start of our years together. I thought we would plant another on each anniversary, to mark the passage of time.”
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears. Damon had remembered how precious her garden was to her, and he had duplicated it for her. The knowledge melted her heart.
“You do love me,” she said, turning to gaze up at him reverently.
“Certainly, I do. I told you so, Elle.”
She bent to pluck one perfect rose and brought it to her lips, breathing in its delicious scent. “This is worth more to me than rubies and diamonds, Damon.”
He reached up to wipe away a tear with a gentle forefinger. “I will be giving you rubies and diamonds, as well, love. The Wrexham jewels are safely stored in a bank vault in London. But meanwhile, I wanted you to know that I consider our union much more than a mere marriage of convenience.”
“Thank you, Damon,” she whispered, smiling with joy.
He took the rose from her and tucked it behind her ear. “I'll make you another vow, Elle. There will never be a day you won't know how much I love you.”
“I mean to hold you to that vow,” Eleanor said softly.
She had longed for love, for a cherished husband to grow old with, for children. And she knew Damon would fulfill her yearning. She saw a thousand sensual promises in his dark eyes as he gazed back at her.
Turning to gaze down at her new rose garden, she gave a dreamy sigh and rested her head against Damon's shoulder. “Aunt Beatrix will be relieved that we have made up,” Eleanor murmured. “She thinks you are the key to my happiness. I only regret that her own hopes for happiness have been crushed. She was greatly hurt to learn that Signor Vecchi was behind the threats against Prince Lazzara. But I suppose it is better for her to learn his true nature now, before her affections became even more deeply engaged.”
“No doubt. I was surprised that Vecchi would go to such lengths to keep you from wedding Lazzara, but I have no regrets that he succeeded.”
“You were clever to have divined the signor as the perpetrator.”
“I had help-from the Runners and from Havi-land. There is a great deal more to Haviland than meets the eye.”
Eleanor laughed to herself. “I would imagine so. A woman can sense these things, you know.”
“Is that so?” Placing his finger under her chin, Damon made her look at him. “You don't have a partiality for Haviland, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good. I don't ever want to see you flirting with him again, wife.”
“You won't. I only did so to make you jealous.”
“It worked-although I was far more jealous of Lazzara. I am glad to be rid of him, I must say.”
“In truth, so am I. He offered to make me his mistress a short while ago.”
“Did he now.” Damon's eyes glittered dangerously, gratifying Eleanor with his possessiveness. “He's fortunate then to have left the premises before I learned of it.”
“He thought that since you were consorting with your mistress, I would be at liberty to take lovers outside our marriage.”
“You will never be free, love. I am your husband for now and always.”