understand. A Templeton would never neglect her guests."
"Not ordinarily, no. But it is my birthday." Her hand felt so warm and sheltered in his. She wished they could walk forever, down to the cliffs, so she could share that most intimate place with him. "I should have some leeway."
"Then let's take advantage of that." He guided her toward the fanciful white shape of the gazebo.
From there the sounds of the party became muted background, and the moonlight filtered through the latticelike lace. Scents from the flowers perfumed the air. It was precisely the setting he'd wanted.
Old-fashioned and romantic, like the woman he intended to have.
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her. She came so willingly, he thought. So innocently. That lovely mouth parting for his, those delicate arms winding around him. It stirred him, this youth combined with dignity, eagerness flushed with innocence.
He could have her, he knew. He had the skill and the experience. But he was a man who prided himself on control, and he drew her gently back. He wouldn't soil the perfection, or rush into the physical. He wanted his wife untouched, even by himself.
"I haven't told you enough how lovely you look tonight."
"Thank you." She treasured those warm, liquid pulls of anticipation. "I wanted to. For you."
He smiled and held her tenderly, letting her head rest against his heart. She was so perfect for him, he thought.
Young, lovely, well bred. Malleable. Through the slats he spotted Margo, flashy in her clinging red dress, laughing bawdily at some joke.
Even though his glands stirred, his sensibilities were offended. The housekeeper's daughter. Every man's wet dream.
His gaze shifted to Kate. The prickly ward, with more brains than style. It amazed him that Laura felt this childish attachment for those two. But he was sure it would fade in time. She was, after all, sensible, with a dignity admirable in one so young. Once she fully understood her place in society—and her place with him—she could be gently weaned from inappropriate attachments.
He had no doubt she was in love with him. She had so little experience in coyness or deception. Her parents might not completely approve, but he was confident that their devotion to their daughter would sway them in his favor.
They would find no fault with him personally or professionally, he was certain. He did his job, and did it well. He would make a suitable son-in-law. With Laura beside him, with the Templeton name, he would have everything he wanted. Everything he deserved. The proper wife, the unshakable position in society, sons. Wealth and success.
"We haven't known each other long," he began.
"It feels like forever."
Over her head, he smiled. She was so sweetly romantic. "Only a few months, Laura. And I'm nearly ten years older than you are."
She only pressed closer. "What does it matter?"
"I should give you more time. God, you're still in high school."
"Only for a few more months." Her heart beat wildly with anticipation as she lifted her head. "I'm not a child, Peter."
"No, you're not."
"I know what I want. I've always known."
He believed her. And he, also, knew what he wanted. Had always known. That, too, he mused, they had in common.
"Still, I told myself I would wait." He brought her hands to his lips, watched her eyes. "Another year, at least."
She knew this was what she had dreamed of, had waited for. "I don't want you to wait," she whispered. "I love you, Peter."
"I love you, Laura. Too much to wait even another hour, much less another year."
He eased her down onto the padded bench. Her hands trembled. With all her heart she absorbed every aspect of the moment. The sound of music in the distance that carried over the clear night air in quiet notes. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and hints of the sea. The way the shadows and lights played through the sheltering lattice.
He got down on one knee, as she'd known he would. His face was so beautiful in the delicate, dreamy light, it broke her heart. Her eyes were swimming with tears when he took a small black-velvet box from his pocket, opened it. The tears made the light that glinted off the diamond refract into rainbows.
"Will you marry me, Laura?"