Page 11 of How to Lose a Dowry in Three Bucks (A Few Good Bucks #3)

Three days later

Matt had kept his counsel in the carriage on the ride home from the Forest. He’d dropped a kiss on Sophia’s cheek each morning at breakfast, but otherwise didn’t presume to trouble her.

And on the way to her solicitor’s office this morning, he’d been silent to prevent himself from saying something that might sway her.

She needed to do this — to see this plan through — and he would just have to wait to say his piece.

When she stepped back into the carriage, Matt grasped Sophia’s hand and brought her to his lap.

“What’s that for?” she asked shyly, finally meeting his eyes when he gazed at her.

“Is it done?” he asked, needing to hear confirmation that he could proceed with his plans.

Sophia nodded, a blush on her cheeks and a smile playing at her lips. “The solicitor agreed to convert my dowry to an annuity. The mere threat of the photographs was enough to convince him.”

He thanked the heavens and drew his darling girl closer. “And when shall the conversion be done?”

“He promised it would be complete by next week. You see, I’m about to be a very influential and wealthy client, so he would like for me to remain happy with the firm.”

Relief and emotion overpowered him, and his hand slipped from Sophia’s waist because his muscles relaxed so suddenly.

“Are you well?” she asked.

“No, I’m not, Sophia.”

Her eyes widened at his stern tone. They searched his waistcoat as if looking for the beau who had been there a moment before.

“I’m not ready for this to be over,” he said, pulling her close, potentially letting her feel how his heart thumped within that fine tailoring.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Well, that’s good.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, bringing a hand to her hair and stroking the places her hat did not cover. He’d take her to the finest milliners. His wife would have only the best.

“Well, I have some photographs of a most sensitive nature,” she whispered, placing her hand over his awakened cock. She didn’t mean…

Matt nodded, eager to hear the rest. He put his hand over the ring he’d been carrying in his pocket that morning, retrieved from a deposit box, checking it hadn’t shifted during the twenty minutes he’d sat still in the coach.

“I’m going to need to store them somewhere safe. A metal strongbox, for example.”

“I have one.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I was wondering if you might consent to hold them for me.”

“It might prove awkward for me to store photographs for you while you live elsewhere,” he said faintly.

“I thought of that, too. There’s no way around it.”

Was she saying what he hoped she was saying? Could it be?

“I’ll just have to live with you, I suppose,” she said, her face giving away nothing.

“I’m not sure that it’s the done thing, even in 1881, for an unrelated man and woman to live together. For more than a chaperoned Season or visit, you know.” Ha, rich talk for a man who recently considered keeping her as a mistress in his house.

“You bring up a good point,” she said, her expression unchanging.

Was she about to offer for him? Could it be? He didn’t know if his pride could bear being proposed to by his girl, but his heart couldn’t stop racing at the prospect of her sharing his feelings.

“There’s nothing for it, then,” she said resignedly. “I’ll have to ask you—”

“Yes?”

“For a recommendation on where to buy a metal strongbox,” she finished.

He stared at Sophia, his mouth almost certainly unhinged, as he struggled to understand this reversal of fortune.

And then she laughed. Her lovely, dear face broke into the most delightful laughter and he, too, despite his bewilderment, joined in.

She pulled an envelope from within her coat. “I’ll entrust these to you,” she said.

“Even though they will stay at my house?”

“Yes, but I’m not concerned,” she said, leaning in for a kiss. He captured her lips and only broke away to ask a question he couldn’t shake.

“And why aren’t you concerned?”

“Because I’ll be there, too, won’t I?” she replied, her hand moving over his straining cock knowingly.

“I suppose you’ll have to be,” he said, slipping the ring from his pocket.

“I’m not ready for this to be over either,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

The relief that she shared his feelings was instantaneous. He surreptitiously slipped that ring on the finger currently stroking over the ridge of his cockhead and then took her face into his hands.

“Shall we go home?” he asked, nodding to the ring. She spotted the Peverel emerald sitting atop her finger.

She nodded as if in a daze; her smile growing with each turn of those carriage wheels towards their townhouse. “Yes, let’s return to our home.”

THE END