Chapter Thirty-One
One month later
The townhouse was delightfully full.
Myfanwy would have never believed it, but Samuel’s home was remarkably equipped to handle the crush. Since he wasn’t one for decorating, she’d always assumed the interior would seem a tad aloof and remote until she’d put some effort into it. However, that wasn’t the case. It only needed more people, and more laughter.
Suddenly, surrounded by her closest friends and family, Myfanwy felt the townhouse even homier and more domestic, and any errant thought that she should continue looking for her own flew swiftly out of her mind.
Even though if there was any day to ponder it, it was today.
Samuel was throwing his first ever dinner party in honor of Myfanwy’s twenty-first birthday. The very day she would gain her majority—the day she was free to lead any life that she dreamed.
Staring at Samuel across the drawing room, where he was in deep conversation with Sir Bramble, Myfanwy couldn’t call up those old dreams now. So much had changed in such a short period of time, and yet everything was still the same.
The only difference was that she felt different. Down to the marrow of her bones, Myfanwy was content, happy, blissfully in love, and still incredibly single.
Over the past month, Samuel hadn’t appeared in any hurry to broach the subject of marriage, even though—for all intents and purposes—they behaved like a married couple. Not one night went by that Myfanwy didn’t share his bed, and she had no intention of halting the habit anytime soon.
She blamed herself. She was more than aware that her previous opinions about marriage had, no doubt, scared the man off the idea, and she wasn’t sure how to bring the idea to the table again.
Exchanging I love yous had become a nightly ritual, and that seemed to be enough for Samuel. Would it be enough for her?
A pang of longing hit Myfanwy as she caught Benny Hardcastle’s eye and the man lumbered over to her, a glass of punch in his hand.
“I know I already said it, Miss Myfanwy, but happy birthday. I hope you’re having a good enough time this evening.”
“I am, Benny, thank you,” she replied, inwardly shaking off the odd sensations threatening to choke the fun out of the night.
“Samuel wanted to have the party at the tavern, but I told him that wouldn’t do. You deserved a more respectable place for your special day.”
The man looked so proud of himself that Myfanwy couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you. I am glad you prodded Samuel in the proper direction.”
“I’d do anything for him,” Benny said wistfully, raising his glass toward Samuel. “Did you hear he got me a position as one of the coaches for the Players team? I couldn’t believe it when he told me. I’m actually starting to come around to the idea that I might have a future with coaching.”
“Well,” Myfanwy replied, “I’m certain Samuel wouldn’t want anyone to yell at him but you.”
Benny smiled impishly. “You know I’ll do a good job of it.”
“I do,” she said, patting his arm as he meandered back toward the refreshments.
Myfanwy had known it would only be a matter of time before the men’s teams came sniffing for Samuel, after it got out that his leg was healing. Slowly, he began playing again—a match here, a match there—and finally he settled on playing for one of the smaller clubs outside the city.
He remained a professional, still not understanding why anyone would play without getting paid. Only the people who knew him best could see how his left eye altered his game, and that he’d lost a step or two when racing between the wickets. But, surprising everyone, Samuel didn’t seem to mind. He played because he loved it. He especially enjoyed working with the younger players, helping to massage their potential. Myfanwy had no doubt that he would return to coaching again sooner or later. Cricket was something that he would never want to walk away from—even if it was on his own terms.
Myfanwy’s fears of Samuel leaving them all behind were unfounded. Even while playing, he was still a vital member of the London Ladies Cricket Club. He’d even donated the field next to his tavern to the club permanently so that they would always have a place to meet and play. Although privacy was something of an issue. They’d made such a splash walloping the matrons that many came to watch their practices each week. Myfanwy and the ladies didn’t mind much. The cheers and claps were always welcomed.
“That’s not the expression I was hoping to see,” a familiar voice said, cutting off Myfanwy’s thoughts.
Samuel stood in front of her, grand and imposing, a gentleman of his house. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so proud, so comfortable, even when thousands of people were screaming his name.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Myfanwy’s smile was gentle. “Nothing at all,” she said, sweeping a long gaze around the room. “I’m just happy, I suppose.”
“Content?”
“Very.”
He lowered his head to her. “And nothing could make you more so?”
Myfanwy laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmm,” Samuel said, taking her hand. “That’s not good enough.”
Slicing through the crowd, he took her outside the drawing room. She tugged on him when he reached the stairs. “Samuel, we can’t leave now,” she argued, though she could already feel heat begin to rise inside her. Whenever he guided her upstairs, one inevitable thing happened. “We can’t.”
Samuel regarded her oddly, one side of his mouth up in a crooked smile. “But that’s where your present is.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can wait until everyone leaves to have it,” she answered dryly.
“But I don’t want to wait.”
Myfanwy glanced from side to side. “Contain yourself, Samuel.”
“No. I don’t want to contain myself. If you won’t go to the bedroom, then I’ll just have to do it right here.”
“What?” Myfanwy squawked, twisting her neck to make sure no one was in listening distance. She retreated. “What are you—”
Samuel’s grin transformed his whole face. Was one of his eyes truly white? Myfanwy couldn’t tell anymore. When he smiled at her like that, all she saw was love.
He reached into his jacket pocket and took out—the brown cotton sack.
The tincture?Myfanwy had plenty enough as it was. Weeks ago, when Samuel had gone to the Lucky Fish to kill Harry Holmes, the men settled matters amicably by cutting a deal to go into the tonic business. Instead of beating each other to a pulp, they devised a way to begin selling the miracle muscle-relaxing tincture to the masses. They even elected Holly to run the business. The woman didn’t have to worry about coins rattling in her dress anymore. She only dealt in paper money nowadays.
Myfanwy accepted the sack from Samuel, vaguely registering that his palms were sweaty.
“Thank you?” she replied awkwardly.
“Open it,” he said.
“Oh, all right.” Myfanwy slipped her hand inside the sack. The smooth glass of the tiny bottle wasn’t to be found. Instead, she landed on a little box. A red box that fit easily in her palm. As Myfanwy opened the lid, Samuel sank to one knee. Without a grimace of pain to be seen.
“Samuel… I—” Myfanwy’s words cut off. Inside the box was a beautiful gold ring with three sapphire stones at its center.
“I adore you,” Samuel said. “You know that. I’ve told you enough. But, my love, I want you to be my wife. I want to spend my life with you. You’re the one who showed me that I still had a future, and I will always be grateful, but that future will mean nothing unless you share it with me.”
Her vision clouded with tears. But Samuel was so clear to her. His expression was wonderfully sincere and open. With one hand, she reached out to cup his cheek, and he held it instantly, kissing her palm.
Myfanwy couldn’t form a sentence. “I don’t… I…”
Samuel smiled bashfully. He took the box from her, taking the ring out. With great intention, he slid it onto her finger. “I’ve waited to do this. You have no idea how many times I dreamed of doing it. But it had to be today. It had to be on the day when you were given everything—your money, your freedom.” He laid a reverent kiss on the ring as if he was a knight offering his service and loyalty. “I didn’t want you to decide on a life with me until you had the world at your fingertips.”
Myfanwy dropped to her knees, holding Samuel’s face in her hands. She drowned him in kisses and vowed to do so for the rest of her life. “It was always you,” she said against his lips, “from the very beginning. I only ever wanted you. Forever.”
“Are you sure?” Samuel asked. “You can do anything in your life, and I’m asking you to spend it with me. Forever is a long time.”
Myfanwy snuck another glance at her exquisite ring and hugged him with all her might. “Not when you’re happy.”