A clock striking midnight finally reminded Slade of the lateness of the hour. "Time for bed, Jenny. Thank you for coming. I've missed our evening talks."
"So have I." She stood and gathered the cups and plates onto the tray, but instead of leaving, she began toying with the lid of the teapot. Not looking at him, she said, "Remember how you said that lying together should mean something?"
Slade tensed, not sure what was coming. "I remember."
She darted a quick glance at him. "If we did now— it would mean something." Her eyes flicked back to the tray. "If you still wanted to."
He swallowed hard, not sure what to do or say. This was different from the first time she had propositioned him, but he was not sure how. Then he realized. Jenny was no longer the young woman who had calmly offered her body to pay a debt. She was shy, fearful of rejection, because this time her feelings were involved.
"Oh, yes, Jenny, I want to," he said softly. "But I'm still not sure that it's the right thing to do. What about your new life and the handsome young footman?"
"I've met all kinds of men here," she said simply. "Grooms, footmen, guards, and gardeners. Most have given me the eye, and some of them are handsome, but none of them are you."
He felt that he had been given the greatest gift of his life. Beyond caring if his actions were right or wrong, he reached out and cupped her cheek, his fingers tingling at the feel of her delicate skin.
"Ah, Jenny, you are so lovely," he whispered. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, very gently. While he was not without some experience of women, he had never been a womanizer, and he knew that he was not a dashing, expert lover. But he wanted, with every particle of his being, to please this young girl who had known so little of pleasure.
Jenny's lips worked under his, slow and experimentally, as tentative as Slade himself. Then she gave a soft sigh and raised her hands to his shoulders to draw him closer. And as the night flowed on, the man with little experience and the girl with too much found magic together.
After they had made love, she began weeping. Horrified, Slade propped himself up on one elbow. "What's wrong, Jenny? Did I hurt you?"
He thought that she might draw away, but instead she burrowed against him, wrapping her arms around his chest. "I didn't—I didn't know it could be so sweet."
He cuddled her close, stroking her flaxen hair with one hand, awed that such a lovely young woman was happy in his arms. There had been moments of awkwardness, and they had much to learn about each other, but she was right: there was great sweetness between them.
Quietly he said, "I know that this is too soon, but would you at least consider marrying me?"
Shocked, she drew her head back, tears glinting on her cheek in the lamplight. "Marry you?" she faltered.
Carefully he brushed the tears away with the tip of his finger. "I know that I shouldn't ask. I'm almost twice your age and not a very interesting person, but I'm rather well-off, and I swear I'll take good care of you. As my wife, you'll never be cold or hungry or bullied by anyone again."
"You're the most interesting man I've ever met," she retorted. "But you can't marry me! You're a gentleman."
He smiled, "I can marry any woman I can persuade to say yes, Jenny, though I've never wanted to marry before."
"What would people say?" she asked miserably. "Gentlemen don't marry whores. I would embarrass you."
"Don't say that! You are not a whore, You're a brave and beautiful young woman who has survived and flourished in the midst of great adversity. Like a perfect rose that miraculously has bloomed among the weeds."
She giggled. "That's not very romantic."
"Probably not. I don't have a very romantic nature," he admitted, glad she was laughing again. "Don't worry about not fitting in—you are so quick at picking up accents and manners that people will never know that you don't have the same boring background that they do."
She smiled but shook her head. "I think you're being romantic now, Mr. Slade. You don't have to marry me just because you think you should after what we've done."
"I think we've gotten to the point where you could call me Benjamin." He lay back against the pillow, pulling her head down on his shoulder and stroking her pale silken hair. "Once upon a time, Jenny, I always did exactly what I thought I should. I studied hard, worked hard, obeyed all the rules, thinking that all that sober virtue would be rewarded. I went into the East India Company, determined to make a success of myself."
He sighed, thinking of what had happened in India, and how close he had come to destroying himself from despair. "After all my hard work, I was made the scapegoat for my superior's embezzling. I lost my job, my reputation, most of my friends, and very nearly my freedom. If Peregrine hadn't come along and saved me in an illegal but very effective way, I would be in prison or dead now."