When his expression softened with something resembling satisfaction, her heart at last started beating again in a more normal rhythm.
“I’m glad you realize it, angel.” He uncrossed his arms and strolled toward her. “Then I suppose I could consider marrying you.”
If not for the hint of laughter in his eyes, she would have been alarmed. But Marcus was provoking her on purpose, she knew. Relief coursing through her, she let herself smile. “You could consider it? What the devil do you mean? You have been after me to marry you for weeks now.”
“But I see no reason to rush now that you have finally capitulated.”
Her own eyes glimmering with faint amusement, Arabella placed her hands on her hips. “I think perhaps I have groveled enough.”
“I’m not so certain. I rather like this humble side of you.”
“You don’t want a humble wife, you said so.”
“True, I don’t. But I would be wise to hold out for better terms.”
“So now you want to negotiate the terms of our marriage?”
“What if I do?”
Arabella’s gaze settled on the rapiers the noblemen had used for their fencing session. Moving over to the table, she picked up a foil, then advanced toward Marcus. “You should know better than to leave weapons lying around when you are deliberately provoking me.” She prodded his chest lightly with the tip. “You had best answer me now, Marcus. Will you marry me or not? I warn you, I may do you bodily harm if you refuse.”
Laughing, he caught her wrist and pulled the rapier from her grasp, then wrapped a strong arm around her waist and drew her close, against his warm, hard body. “Ah, sweetheart,” he said with delight, “you never fail to enchant me.”
“Do I?” Arabella asked, smiling mistily up at him.
“You know damn well you do. Everything about you enchants me. I love the fire flashing in your eyes. I love the fire you make me feel. I love you, Arabella.”
“But will you wed me?”
He considered her for another endless moment while she held her breath. “Yes, I will…but first I have something to give you.”
“What is it?”
“Come with me.”
Surprising her, Marcus released Arabella only to take her hand and draw her from the salon. She found herself being ushered down the corridor and across the entrance hall, where Hobbs stood ready to assist her departure. The butler pretended not to notice his lordship’s odd behavior as Marcus, still carrying the foil, led her into a large room that looked to be his study. Going to a massive desk, he set down the rapier, then fished out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Arabella.
“These are the documents modifying your guardianship?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then what are they?”
“Read for yourself.”
Arabella’s gaze scanned down the first page, then returned to the top to scrutinize the lofty legal language more slowly. As she turned the succeeding pages, recognition dawned on her. Marcus had purchased the deed to the Freemantle Academy from Winifred and had signed it over to her.
Tears springing to her eyes, Arabella looked up at him in awe. “You bought our academy for me?”
“Yes-and before you take my head off, it isn’t charity. In the first place, you’ve worked damned hard for this. And in the second, I hoped to give the school to you as a wedding gift.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” she said softly. “I will cherish this.”
Setting the papers down on the desk, she stepped closer. Smiling warmly, she reached up and threaded her arms around his neck. “Did I tell you how very much I love you?”
“You did. But I want to hear you tell me again. I won’t ever tire of hearing it.”
“I love you dearly, Marcus.”