The food was delicious, and he was so wonderful—I could not help myself. I burst into tears.
Alarm stamped his face. “It cannot possibly taste as bad as that.”
“No, it’s very flavorful,” I said through my tears. The squash was tender and the rice and meat filling perfectly seasoned. “I love it.”
“Am I to understand that these are tears of joy?” he asked dubiously, offering me his kerchief. “Will you tell me what is vexing you?”
I took it and blew my nose. “I’ve had a visitor.”
“Did Mr. Wilson return?” His lips thinned. “Have you accepted his offer in favor of mine?”
“Squire Worsley was here.” I proceeded to repeat everything that odious man said. “And so,” I said in conclusion, “there is no way we can marry.”
His face reddened. “He had no right to come and speak with you,” he said angrily. “I will have a word with him.”
“To what end?”
“If necessary, I shall find a church living elsewhere.”
“Who will employ you with me as your wife? You must think about your future.”
“Youare my future. If you will have me, I’ll stand for nothing less.”
“You must be reasonable.”
“Worsley is being difficult because he wants me to wed his daughter.”
Although the squire had been a stranger to me, I’d seen his daughter before. An only child, she was in her late twenties, shy and a bit plain. She had not had success on the marriage market. “Maybe you should. If you wed her, your future would be assured.”
“As would my misery. I have nothing against Miss Worsley, but my heart is already taken.”
“The squire must think highly of you to want you for a son-in-law.”
“It is not as great an honor as you might think. He realizes his daughter will likely be a spinster and thinks, due to my less-than-porcelain-like skin and my parents’ foreign connections, that I should be grateful to make such a match.”
I was outraged. “Your wife will be the most fortunate woman in all of England.”
He rose and came over to me. “If you truly believe that, then say you will marry me, Lydia, please.”
I shook my head. “I followed my heart once, and it led to great unhappiness. I am a grown woman now. I cannot follow my whims and desires.”
His eyes sparked. “So you do desire me.”
I looked away. “It means nothing.”
“It means everything. I am offering myself to you, body and soul.”
“I cannot.” I stood and moved away because I couldn’t think rationally when Michael was physically close to me, when all I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms. But for once, I needed to lead with my head and not my heart. “My impulsive actions ruined my future. I am not willing to destroy yours as well.”
He came to stand in front of me. “When will you start believing that you deserve good things?” He brushed a kiss across my temple, his masculine scent enveloping me. “When will you believe that you are most worthy?” His lips feathered across my cheek. “That an honorable man can love you and is willing to fight for the privilege of taking you to wife?”
Emotion roiled in my chest as his lips found mine. Moving in soft yet assured motions, his soulful mouth was a gentle pressure against mine, sliding from the top of my lip to the bottom, exploring, stealing the air from my lungs. Strong, warm hands caressed my face with delicate care, as if I were a great treasure. The floor beneath my feet fell away, and I was floating on a tide of pleasure and sensation.
He broke the kiss, his breath coming fast and hard, and set his forehead against mine. “That,” he said, “is a mere taste of what we have to look forward to. If you are willing to fight for us. For our future.”
Sensation still streaking through my body, I marveled at this man’s effect on me. Wickham, in the beginning, had kissed me more forcefully with tongue and hands roaming everywhere. Yet Michael’s almost-chaste kiss affected me much more profoundly.
How could I ever let him go?
