Askance, Lucy eyed him.
The good-hearted gentleman nodded slowly. “Yes, Lucy.You.”
Her? Except…
Lucy replayed each moment spent with Arran in her mind. The private talks. The parts they’d shared of themselves. The way he held her, in passion and in comfort.
The faint echoes of that fragile emotion stirred her heart.
Maybe, just maybe, Campbell Smith was right.
Chapter 17
Ashort while later, Lucy took her leave of Campbell’s chambers. She drew the door shut with a faint click.
She’d entertained—for a lengthy amount of time—Campbell involving himself in her relationship with Arran. Only on account of being asked to hear him out. And hear him out she had. Dogged, he’d steadfastly pushed back on her declinations.
Though grateful he cared and wished to help, Lucy wouldn’t accept help from any quarters.
She didn’t want to take part in a charade to catch his notice.
She didn’t want Campbell to speak to Arran on Lucy’s behalf to explain what happened. Accept blame for the misunderstanding—as the big-hearted gentleman offered to do.
She needed to do this alone.
And she was ready. Oddly at peace.
Arran was a proud man, but surely if he understood she’d come to love him and hadn’t known how to tell—
A tingling sensation took hold.
“Hullo,Miss LeBeau.”
Arran.
She welcomed his smooth, calming baritone as it washed over her like summer sunshine. He could not speak to her so if he did not care for her even some. And if he cared before, then maybe Campbell was right, and he could forgive her.
Smiling, her heart racing as it only ever did because of this man. “Arran, I was going to…” Her smile faded.
The sight of him defied the silken soft tones by which he greeted her. It stopped her dead.
Unease trickled along her spine. Moisture slicked her palms.
His square chin notched down in such a way that she felt three feet tall. “You were going to…?” The sing-song teasingquality of his reply was wrecked by the tight lines at the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?” he prodded when she didn’t reply fast enough.
“I was coming to look for you,” she said quietly.
Arran crossed his arms at his broad chest; that motion sent his taut muscles rippling. “You’d go rushing from your…” His lip curled in a sneer. “Betrothed’sbedside in search of me? His cousin.”
A pounding started in her head.
How strange. It’d been but an hour or so since she’d last seen him. He wore the same dashing sapphire wool coat and his snow-white cravat tied in a careful knot befitting his status of captain. There wasn’t a single strand of dark, silken hair out of place. And yet he’d stepped into this hall, the sharp planes of his face carved of such loathing, and stood a stranger before her.
Which is how he will forever see you.A lying, deceitful stranger.
The game of cat and mouse he played proved too much. Hands shaking, Lucy slid her palms behind her and braced herself against the thick oak paneling.
Tortured, splintering into a thousand million pieces of pain, she glanced desperately about. “Can we not do this here,please?”
