Page 89 of My Fair Lord

All eyes turned on Clayton, everyone else presumably as astonished as Florence at this sudden display of hypocrisy.

“Daddy, that’s exactly what you were intending to do!” Florence exclaimed. A horrible thought occurred to her. Cordelia had warned her that Ned might intend to marry her for her fortune. What if the declaration of love had been a ploy all along?

“You don’t want to marry me for my money, do you, Lord Ayesgarth?”

Ned looked away, his lips moving soundlessly.

He didn’t know about the broken engagement! The shock hit Florence like a slap to the face.

“If I was free to marry, I mean,” she said quickly. “Which I am.”

He looked round at Florence, hope lighting his eyes. “Are you?”

She nodded and crossed the room to him. “I’m afraid that Lord Stretford has terminated our engagement. Thank goodness it hadn’t been announced because the embarrassment would be too much to bear.”

“I absolutely cannot have your family embarrassed,” Ned said. He reached for her hand. Aware that her family were watching, but not caring in the slightest, Florence allowed him to take it.

“Florence, my darling, I want youdespiteyour wealth. I want you for your passion and your ideas and the way you make me feel when we’re dancing or talking. And for your expert knowledge in how a nobleman should behave, of course.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled inside her. He made her laugh like no one else.Find a man who makes you laugh, he had told her. Well, she had.

“I am an expert in that field as you know.”

Ned dropped to his knee.

“You have made it perfectly clear that you don’t want to marry an earl. I have made it equally clear that I don’t want to be one. Why don’t we both resign ourselves to our fates and face the world together? Will you marry me, my darling?”

From the corner of her eye, Florence could see Cordelia grasping Twemlow by the arm and beaming. She laughed and reached for his hand to pull him upright.

“Lord Ayesgarth, Benedict, Ned, my dearest, of course I will.”

Ned stood and she wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the muffled sounds from the direction of her father. They might be of astonishment or pleasure or rage, but right now, she didn’t really care. She would deal with that later, with Ned at her side.

Ned drew her closer until there was not the space for a piece of paper between them. He leaned down, pressing his cheek against hers. As their lips found each other’s, she was dimly aware of Twemlow’s voice coming from her right.

“So who won the wager? I’ve a hundred pounds at stake, you know.”

“Oh,” Florence said, pulling momentarily out of the kiss to gaze up at Ned, who looked back at her with eyes radiating joy and love, “do you know, I rather think I did.”