“Your name.”
“I’ll have to ask Beauchamp if he has any objections to me changing it to Beauchamp.” I leaned back and looked into his eyes. “I hadn’t told you that. His son was my father. Will…will you mind being married to a butler’s grandson?”
“Not as long as he’s you. But I was wondering if you’d be willing to share my name.”
“You mean Beauchamp-Wyndham? It’s a mouthful, don’t you think? But I like it.”
“I do, too. In fact, I think it suits you much better than Llewellyn-Wyndham would.” He took my hand from around his neck and brought it to his mouth. “Most people would be having an identity crisis, you know.”
“Why?”
“Changing your name after twenty-one years.”
“I don’t mind. Sir…Marcus always made me feel as if I wasn’t worthy of it. And if it turned out that we didn’t know who my father was, just that he wasn’t Marcus, I’d change my name to Martin.”
“That would make your grandfather very proud.”