Staring at the canopy, he looked inside. In gifting him with her body and linking her life to his, she’d given him more than he’d ever dreamt he might have. He found her hand, drew it to his lips, and gently bussed her knuckles. “Thank you.” He let the murmured words fall into the warm dimness. “For giving me something I thought I would never have—the chance of a real marriage blessed with true and abiding love.”
There was no doubt in his heart that love of that caliber had grown between them.
She turned toward him; he felt her puzzled gaze trace his profile. “Why had you thought such a thing was not for you?”
She’d given him her secrets. It was time for him to give her his.
He drew in a deeper breath, then haltingly picked his way through a condensed version of his mother’s life, omitting nothing, yet not dwelling overlong on the more shocking aspects. “My father...tried. Although theirs was a marriage of convenience, he was prepared to accord her all due respect, to give her his trust and even his affection. But she...” He shook his head. “That wasn’t what she wanted—that wasn’t why she’d accepted him.” He paused, then more quietly admitted, “Given all I saw of her actions, her self-serving manipulations and machinations, I really didn’t think I would ever overcome my consequent distrust of ladies. To give my heart to one, I would have to trust her implicitly, and I truly doubted I could ever do that.”
He turned his head and met her eyes. “Until I met you at the wedding, and you and your attitude got under my skin like a burr. Then you—the real you—erupted into my life here in Bristol, and”—his lips twisted wryly—“I couldn’t look away, much less stay away.” He turned toward her and cupped her face in his palm. “You drew me from the first, as if, even then, I recognized that you could be my salvation.” Holding her gaze, he smiled into her eyes and said, “And so you’ve proved to be. By marrying me, you’ve saved me from a lonely fate, from hiding away from love forever, deeming it too dangerous to risk.
“You convinced me loving you was worth any risk. You, Sylvia Amelia Cavanaugh, have opened my eyes to all the joys and benefits of sharing a life, and you are now the central and most vital element in mine. Without you, I would have drifted through life, restless and unsatisfied. Now you’re here by my side, I can look forward to a long and happy life loving you and basking in the warmth of your love for me.”
He smiled. “From where I lie, our shared future looks well-nigh perfect.”
Sylvia finally understood what had been behind the occasional hesitations she’d sensed in his early dealings with her.
Unbeknown to her, he’d been battling demons she hadn’t known existed. Yet with quiet courage, he’d trusted in her and stepped over his inner hurdle and offered her his heart.
She’d understood that she could trust him within days of meeting the real him. Until now, she hadn’t appreciated how very much he had trusted her.
Although he hadn’t asked for it or for any other reassurance, she held his gaze and stated, “I don’t have any of the...inclinations it seems your mother had.”
“I know.” His lips twisted in a fleeting grimace. “I suspect that, in reality, few women truly do. Thank heaven.”
He continued to hold her gaze, then said, “I feel as if in loving you and marrying you, I’ve passed out of the shadow my mother cast and shed her malignant influence once and for all.”
“Good. Because I’m not of a mind to share my influence over you with anyone.”
That elicited a deep chuckle, and Sylvia smiled. She raised one hand and ran her fingers through the tousled locks of his hair, then she met his eyes and confessed, “For me, the single greatest discovery in falling in love with and marrying you is that, in confirmation of my recent assessments, it is, indeed, possible for a forbidden fantasy lord to live up to expectations—indeed, even to exceed them.”
Lord Kit Cavanaugh—her husband—laughed and reached for her. “And I plan to devote myself to exceeding your expectations”—he smiled into her eyes—“for as long as we both shall live.”
THE END