He loved her.
Affectionate love, romantic love, let’s-get-naked-now love. All of it.
He could absolutely imagine the fairy-tale. Star-crossed love and a splendid wedding. A cozy cottage and holidays abroad. A cat, a parrot, a baby or three. A house full of love and romance and laughter.
To him, it sounded perfect.
To her, it sounded like… failure. Like settling for less. Like giving up.
But what if he could convince her otherwise? He couldn’t scale the Himalayas or take her diving beneath the sea, but he could offer a happy home, annual holidays, and a lifetime of love. Surely that would be just as compelling an offer as endless, grueling exploring. Wouldn’t it?
“Hypothetically,” he began. “If you were to choose between, say, eleven months a year on a boat in exchange for a few weeks’ adventure, or marrying a man who—”
The maid fled the room as if her mobcap had caught fire.
“It doesn’t matter what the man has,” Priscilla said, “unless what he possesses is unquenchable thirst for adventure. Some people only holiday. Not me. A holiday is what you do to avoid your real life for a while. I want adventure to be my life. When every day is marvelous, there’s no reason to want a break from it.”
“But how realistic is that?” he asked gently. “I understand it’s your dream, but it doesn’t sound like reality. How would you afford such adventures? Who would you go with?”
Priscilla did not look like a woman who had just had the cold, hard truth splashed in her face, but rather like a woman about to deliver some cold, hard truth of her own.
“I’ve no dowry,” she said at last. “But there is a trust I’m not supposed to talk about. If I’m unwed on my twenty-fifth birthday, I inherit a great deal of money. I can travel with my father or grandfather, or I can create an entourage of my own. For our first stop, Koffi and I are going to Africa. And then…” She gestured to shelves filled with globes and travel books. “I’ll never stop moving again.”
Thad could not hide his disappointment.
No dowry didn’t signify. He hadn’t been looking for one. But she was. An inheritance to do with as she pleased. And what pleased her was… leaving.
He let his arm fall back to his lap. Keeping it locked around her was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Had he feared someday falling for a woman who had a better option? Priscilla had plenty of better options. She didn’t need him or anyone. She had adventurers in the family who would take her anywhere. And money to give her the freedom to go everywhere she wished.
That was his answer. It wasn’t a question of marrying someone who would be miserable because his love wasn’t enough. Thad was searching for a woman who would choose him, and Priscilla was explicitly not choosing him.
“When will you leave?” he asked.
Her eyes lit up. “That very day.”
“When?” he insisted.
“Next year,” she said. “The thirtieth of July.”
There. He had his timeline. Sixteen months of knowing he was temporary and not enough. Or he could end it now. Today.
“It’s why I didn’t dance with you,” she said softly. “At Almack’s, when you asked. I wanted to very much. But the terms of the inheritance…”
She wanted to dance, but she wanted her freedom more. He could not possibly begrudge her that. Anyone would feel the same. Women, in particular, had so few options. Of course the promise of independence would have a sweeter song than a ball and chain.
“It’s an incredible opportunity,” he said, and meant it. “You’re very fortunate.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s everything I ever wanted.” Her eyes dimmed. “Almost everything.”
She was right, he realized. If she chose the life of adventure, it was all or nothing. If she married, the money from her inheritance would belong to her husband, not her. She’d lose her freedom. Her independence. Her husband could prevent her from going anywhere at all, and there would be nothing she could do about it.
Other than refuse to marry at all.
“I think I’ve overstayed my thirty minutes,” he said and pushed to his feet.
She rose to hers as well. “Grandmother is hoping you’ll break more rules than that.”
