The time had arrived.
He must tell her the truth about himself. Not here, but half a mile away. In the ducal manor house. It had to be there. It was his only chance to keep her. Not because she would fall for him like every unmarried lady in London because of his title. It was for the opposite reason, in fact.
When he told her the truth about his identity, she needed to see he was the same man in the large house as he was in this tiny cottage.
For here was what he understood about the small, remarkable woman currently lacing up her soggy boots: Rather than accept him for his title of duke, she would reject him for it.
And here was what she needed to understand: He was the man who loved her.
Loved?
Surprise at the realization traced through him. But that didn’t mean it was untrue. He loved this small, remarkable woman. All this time, she was the woman he’d been searching for. The wife he’d wanted.
Now, all he had to do was convince her to be with him despite his title.
Once they’d both sufficiently dressed, he grabbed her pelisse and held it out. After a slight hesitation, she allowed him to assist her.
“Shall we?” he asked and reached for her hand.
She cut him a smile that was equal parts self-aware and shy. After what they’d just done, what was one hand holding another?
An intimacy.
An acknowledgement that more than coupling bound them.
Outside, the rain shower had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Birds sang and twittered about trees still dripping heavy droplets of rain past. The sun shone low and yellow in a clear blue sky, preparing for the coming of dusk.
“The air smells sobright,” said Nell. “Of sun and grass and rain. We don’t get air like this in London.”
Together, they led the horses out of the barn, and Lucas helped Nell up onto the cabriolet’s bench. Bedraggled and—dare he think it?—happy, they sat side by side as he drove them through the estate.
“Can you give me a hint as to where we’re going?” she asked.
“I’m going to show you a house.”
Just then they topped a gentle hill, and Amherst House came into view. Wide eyes rounded on him. “That’swhat you’re calling a house?”
“Aye,” he said simply.
She shook her head on a little snort. “You’ve been living among aristocrats too long.” She pointed toward the massive, centuries-old Peak Moor sandstone structure. “Thatis a castle.”
“The family call it the manor house.”
Nell cut him a skeptical glance. “Let’s meet in the middle with palace.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He loved her point of view. He loved…
Her.
As they rolled to a stop in front of Amherst House, Nell’s awe of the place hadn’t abated one bit. “And this is where you grew up?”
“It is.”
She nodded slowly and seemed to make up her mind about something.
“What is it?”
“It’s no wonder you have a few airs.”
