“Of course I do.” She pressed her hand over her mouth then, as if she could not believe she had revealed so much.
“My sweet Lady Perfect.” He took her wrist in a gentle grasp and plucked that silencing hand away. “Tell me you will let me court you.”
The instant the sobriquet left his lips, he knew a better name for her did not exist. Because shewasperfect—perfect for him, in every sense. Perfectly kind, intelligent, lovely, wonderful.
“I am not the perfect lady by anyone’s standards,” she denied.
Predictably.
“Nonsense.”
He kissed her, just once. A swift peck on her irresistible mouth.
“You cannot mean this.”
Sidney took her lips again. “I can. I do, Julianna. I want to show you how serious I am. How very much I can be a gentleman when the stakes are high enough.”
His hand was still over her heart, and her hands had fluttered to his shoulders once more. She inhaled slowly. “Why me?”
Another kiss. The flames were going to burn him alive, and he was going to allow it.By God, he could not wait to get this woman into his bed. To make her his wife. In the proper order, naturally.
He kissed her again for good measure. “Why not you?”
“Because I am…well, a hoyden. My father tells me I am too much in my mother’s mold. My hair is wild and red and refuses to be tamed. My nose is covered in freckles. I cannot sing or paint. I am not particularly talented at anything save getting myself into trouble. I cannot dance well, and I laugh too loud, often at the wrong moment.”
He kissed her nose. “I love your hair. I adore your freckles. And I do not require you to sing or paint or dance. Your laugh makes me want to kiss you, and if you do get yourself into trouble, I want it to be with me.”
It was the closest he could bring himself to a declaration.
He was in love with her. He understood that on a visceral level, even if he did not quite comprehend what it meant. Love was bigger than him. He had never felt this way before. It terrified him, and yet, now that he had held Julianna in his arms, he knew he could not let her go.
She was his.
“Sidney?”
At last. She was calling him by his Christian name. Directly.
“Yes, love?” He kissed the corner of her mouth. Her cheek. Her ear. More liberties when he had promised she would be safe, but deuce it, he could not seem to help himself where she was concerned.
“You may court me.”
Thank Christ.
He took her lips once more, and no kiss had ever been sweeter. No future more full of brilliant promise.
Chapter 9
Present
I must be foolish indeed, but yesterday, I swore I saw him here in New York City. It was but a moment, and then the man turned away. Was I dreaming his profile, wanting to see him with so much desperation my heart tricked my eyes? I suppose I shall be forever doomed to wonder. Forever stuck here in this life without him, or at least the man I thought he was. Although I remind myself coming here was the best decision for me, I cannot help but to miss him, still. To love him desperately. I suspect I always will.
~from the journal of Lady Julianna Somerset, 1883
Julianna arrived at Cagney House with sweating palms and a cramped stomach. She was going to marry Shelbourne.
Within the next few hours.
Once, becoming his wife had been all she had ever wanted, everything she longed for. Once, her heart had belonged to him. He had owned it so effortlessly. And then, he had crushed it so ruthlessly.
