Marrying Miss Hemingford (28 page)

He drew back suddenly. ‘We have to talk.'

‘Later. Later.' She reached up to pull his mouth down on to hers again.

He responded hungrily. He held her close, the curves of her body fitting into his, his manhood hard against the pit of her stomach. ‘No,' he said, suddenly. ‘First I have a story to tell you. It is a long story and may take a little time.' He sank to the ground, pulled her down beside him and put his arm about her. She laid her head into his shoulder and waited. ‘Once, there was a very foolish young man who imagined himself in love with a harpy…'

She lifted her head. ‘Did you know she was a harpy?'

‘No. Be quiet, or I will never be done.' He had to get it all off his chest. How he had met and lusted after Sophie and asked her to marry him, taken her to his home and introduced her to his brother. ‘I blamed Andrew for seducing her. I could see no wrong in her then,' he said, not sparing himself or her. ‘There was a terrible quarrel and I left. It wasn't until she came to Brighton that I realised what a blind fool I had been. By then everyone had branded me a jilter.'

She put her finger on his lips. ‘Enough, no more. It is of no consequence.'

‘But it is. I want you to know everything. I want you to be sure…'

‘Of course I am sure. Do you think I make a habit of offering myself to young men as I am offering myself to you now?'

‘Before I have even asked?'

She laughed and kissed him. ‘The answer is yes.'

‘You don't know what I was going to ask.'

‘Whatever it was, the answer is still yes. Do I love you? Yes. Do I want to lie with you? Yes. Will I marry you? Yes.' She stopped. ‘And even if you were not going to ask the last one, the answer to the other two is still yes.'

‘Of course I was going to ask it. Do you take me for a rake? I love you, Anne Hemingford. I love you with all my heart and soul, always and for ever. But it is a big step for you to take, for I mean to carry on with my work…'

‘I would not love you half so much if you had wanted anything different. It is what I want too. To live with you in that house up there…' She nodded towards it. Already there were workmen busy rebuilding it. ‘To be your wife and helpmate.'

‘There will be opposition.'

‘Pooh to that. I can deal with opposition.'

‘And scandal?'

‘That too.'

‘Oh, my love, you are wonderful, unique and I adore you.' He took her in his arms again, but his kiss was less frenzied now. He had calmed himself and was once more in control. ‘We must marry very soon because I do not think I can keep my hands off you much longer.'

‘There is always the second of my answers.'

He laughed, half convinced she meant it, but then sense prevailed. ‘No, my love, we will save that for the marriage bed. When it happens, it must be right and I wish us both to savour it to the full as husband and wife.'

‘Then you must call at my aunt's house tomorrow, decked out in your best to ask formally for my hand. I shall be waiting.'

 

And that is what he did. In spite of their impatience they decided to wait until the new Cliff House had risen from the old; after all, it was going to be their home as well as a hospital. Because of all the goodwill Anne had engendered, the money came pouring in and not only money, but offers of practical help from bricklayers, carpenters and painters, and it went up in record time. Six weeks later, the roof was on and the rooms painted and though the wards had to be finished off and equipment brought in, their living quarters were habitable and they could wait no longer.

 

It was a double marriage ceremony, Walter Gosforth and Aunt Bartrum and Justin and Anne, witnessed by Harry and Jane, who had come down from Sutton Park, Viscount Rockbourne and Andrew, now almost fully recovered, and all their friends, high and low; they made no distinction.

The wedding breakfast was held at Cliff House and that night, when everyone had gone home, Justin kept his promise to make their wedding night the most fulfilled and happy she had ever known. Now she knew why she had remained single so long; she had been waiting for the right man, for Dr Justin Tremayne.

 

They spent a week in London and a week at Sevenelms and then returned to Brighton for the opening of the new hospital which had been completed while they were away. ‘I was right,' he told her after the ceremony, when the town dignitaries and the watching populace had departed. ‘You do make dreams come true.'

‘Oh, that was Tildy,' she said, reaching up to kiss him. ‘And her little friend.'