His Darling

"I need to sit down," she whispered.

"Do you not like it?"

She blinked at him. "The ring? No, the ring is—it's extraordinary." She looked at the emerald perched between Henry's thumb and forefinger. It was precisely the stone he would buy: so unabashedly large and rich in its gold setting that it defied all questions of taste. It could not be judged by any standard; it was its own standard. It would immediately become the fashion among brides-to-be of the Upper Ten Thousand.

"Shall we see how it fits?" He took her hand and prepared to slide the ring on.

She snapped her hand back. "Henry, you—you want me to marry you."

He grinned at her.

"I—I'm not slow-witted, Henry. It's only that this is all..." She yanked her hand away as he tried again to put the ring on. "Gentlemen don't marry their mistresses."

Now it was Henry's turn to be taken aback. They stared at one another for a breathless moment.

"My darling," he said at last, "I have been accused of many things, but never has anyone called me a gentleman."

She couldn't suppress a smile.

"And gentleman or not," he continued, "you are not my mistress." He kissed her hand before she could pull it away again. "You are my wife."

It had become such an odd conversation that Ada laughed more loudly than ladies were supposed to. "I haven't even accepted."

"But you will." He spoke as if he were assuring her that the sun would rise the next morning.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll ask you again," he replied, still holding the ring. "And again after that. And if I have to, I'll take you to Gretna Green."

"Against my will?"

"You think I won't carry you down the aisle while you kick and scream?" He captured her hand again. "I suspect any anvil priest would marry us for the right price."

Ada laughed incredulously. All of fashionable London knew he was a peculiar man; he had spent years scandalizing and delighting the press and the upper echelons of society with his extravagance and complete scorn for convention and morality. He didn't even follow the rules for breaking the rules: instead of seeing Ada in secret—even a poorly kept secret—he had made a home for her as if she were his wife. And now he was proposing to make her his actual wife. He wasn't giving her much of a choice, really. Did any man, wealthy or no, ever do such a thing? When would the city's tastemakers finally decide that Henry Aldridge had gone too far? Besides, women like her rarely married, or they married widowers of modest means after all the wealthy protectors were gone. She had already charted out her course; her mother had decided her fate the day Henry had come calling. Marriage to a wealthy protector—and at her tender age—was never expected or even hoped for.

"Henry, you are aware that you sound quite mad. Please tell me you are aware."

He kissed her hand again. "Ada, I haven't made my fortune by concerning myself with such things. Marriage never crossed my mind until I had you. I'm sure I'm not proposing the proper way—whatever the bloody hell that means—but you must accept." He held her hand up once again. "Now put this goddamned thing on your finger."

"Henry, that's no way to propose!" She tried to snatch her hand away yet again, but he held it firmly. "I am a mess! We have abandoned the party and now you're telling me to accept your ring while I look positively indecent. Let go of my hand, you noodle!"

He smiled at her until there was nothing to do but smile back.

"You are exactly as I would want you to be," he said, laughter still in his voice. "I love you."

Ada held her breath. He had never spoken those words to her.

"I know it is love," he went on, "because if I cannot have you, I think it will quite destroy me." He put the ring on the tip of his little finger and took her face in his hands as if she were made of porcelain. "Marry me." He pressed his forehead against hers. "Be my wife, Ada."

Ada kissed him softly. He was the first man to kiss her, and it appeared he would be the last. "I shall marry you, Henry."

They both laughed breathlessly as he finally slid the ring onto her finger. It was a ring too grand to be ostentatious, too stylized to be overdone. She could not stop looking at it.

"We'll be married before the month is out." His arms encircled her waist as she shook her head emphatically. "Yes, my darling, it must be. I cannot wait more than a month. I meant to choose a wedding date with you and announce it this evening, but then bloody Weston showed up and made a fucking mess of everything. I didn't invite him, you know."

Ada blinked. She had too many questions. She wanted to know why Henry was in such a mad rush to marry. She wanted to know how Weston and his fiancée got into the party. She wanted to know how he had expected her to choose a wedding date when he had blindsided her so utterly with his proposal.

She decided to start with an entirely different question. "Have you ever shown up to parties you weren't invited to?"

"I'm always invited."

She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her, but she knew there was truth in it. If an event was worth attending, Henry Aldridge was on the guest list. As his wife, she would be inundated with invitations to dinner parties, balls, afternoon tea, charity events, and hunting parties at remote estates. Perhaps she and Henry would host hunting parties at Sutcliffe Park. It all sounded exhausting and thrilling. She wondered whether the society ladies would befriend her. Were they required to befriend her once her last name was Aldridge? Would women—fashionable, wealthy women—throw themselves at Henry?

He knit his brows as he studied her face. "What is it?"

The question she wanted to ask died on her lips. It was the kind of thing only insecure women asked. That was what her mother would say. And yet...she looked at her fiancé. He was handsome, wildly rich, and charming in his way. He also had a keen sexual appetite and, as she could personally attest, had taken several mistresses before he found her. If she did not ask this question, she would regret it.

"Henry, will you take a mistress after we are married?" She braced herself for his answer.

What she got was another question. "Will it upset you if I do?"

Ada's heart sank. There was only one response that she wished to hear, and that was not it. Although Henry had seemed all too happy to share her with the likes of Weston and Julian Hansard, she felt a quite literal wave of nausea at the thought of sharing him. She would have to reconsider the engagement—but that would have to wait. For the moment, she needed to prove how little she cared.

She looked him squarely in the eye as she spoke. "I doubt it will upset me. I trust it won't upset you if I take a lover."

His lips quirked. "Don't choose anyone you're very fond of."

"No?"

"No," he said, leaning in close enough to kiss her. "You don't want to be heartbroken when his body washes up on the Thames."

She pulled away as he tried to kiss her. "And if I seduce the Prime Minister? Will you throw him into the Thames?"

Henry's laugh echoed. "Gladstone would give his right arm to fuck you." He clutched her by the waist. "And yes, into the Thames he goes if he does." He kissed her hard before she could say any more. "And if you think I'll take a mistress while fucking you every night, then you're entirely too demanding, Mrs. Aldridge. I can do only so much."

"I am not yet Mrs. Aldridge," she said dryly, though she was smiling.

"But you will be in a few weeks."

She looked again at her extraordinary ring. It had been the strangest night of her life. She was going to wed the strangest man she'd ever known, and strangest of all, she loved him entirely.

But first things first. "Henry, how will I ever make myself decent?"

"We'll sneak you back up to O'Hara." He kissed her forehead. "Do you have any idea how many secret entrances and passages this bloody house has?"

"Don't tell me," she replied. "I don't want to know how you've discovered them."

"You've a sharp tongue, Mrs. Aldridge," he said, grabbing her again. "I've half a mind to put it to good use before we go back in, but we've already created enough of a scandal." In a fluid movement, he covered her with his jacket. "The servants know the most discreet way back to your rooms. I'll have someone fetch Mrs. Miniver."

Ada released a breath she didn't know she was holding. All of Henry's servants were discreet, but Mrs. Miniver, the housekeeper, had a particularly comforting presence. "Thank you, Henry."

"Don't be too long, my darling," he said as he ushered her through a hidden entrance. "I think we shall announce our engagement after all."