Changed her mind?
For a moment, she was hopelessly confused, until she realized he was referring to their earlier conversation that morning, and what now seemed a lifetime ago, when she had told him she wished to end their betrothal at once.
And then, it occurred to her that he had yet to speak words of love. He had said he wanted to marry her, yes. He had said she had changed him, and that when he had emerged from the river, he had arrived at the realization that he wanted to make her his wife.
However, he had not spoken the one, four-letter word which would make all the difference to her bruised and battered heart.
Love.
“I am…considering changing my mind,” she said.
He grimaced. “That hardly sounds promising.”
“What shall we tell the others?” she asked, not wanting to question him directly about love and yet unable to keep from thinking about it.
“We need tell them nothing. As far as they are concerned, we are already betrothed.”
“But my friends all know it is a pretense,” she countered, determined.
He raised a dark brow. “Will your friends care if we have changed our minds? Do you find them untrustworthy?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then we need offer no explanations.”
Either he was being obtuse, or love was not a part of his thoughts when he had made his earlier decision. “What of your feelings for Lady Huntly? Do you still love her?”
“No, I do not. Christ, what a clod I am, going about this proposal all wrong.” He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “The last time I proposed marriage to a lady, we were not already betrothed, and nor had she just told me she wishes to end our betrothal immediately that morning. I will admit, I have no notion of how to proceed. Then again, look at how that turned out.”
The smile on his lips was hesitant and beautiful, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and kiss him until they were both breathless. But two things stopped her. The first was the kitten nestled in her lap. The second was Ambrose himself. While he had conceded with ease that he no longer loved the marchioness, he still had yet to speak any words of love concerning Clementine.
“How can you be so certain I am the woman for you?” she asked him quietly, searching his gaze, hoping to find the answers she sought there. “After what happened with Lord and Lady Huntly…”
“What happened was meant to be, Clementine. I understand that now. If the Marchioness of Huntly had loved me, she would not have been in a compromising situation with the marquess. Nor would she have thanked you for your timely intervention. Do you believe in fate?”
His question took her by surprise, for the Marquess of Dorset had never struck her as a particularly fanciful man.
“I have always thought fate was cruel,” she confessed.
She had found Walter, only to lose him before he could ever truly be hers. Was that not the definition of cruelty?
And yet…
She had found the Marquess of Dorset. All thanks to Miss Julia’s house party and one confused bee.
Mayhap Charity’s advice as well, though Clementine would never admit as much to her friend for fear of what questionable advice she may offer their friends next.
“What ifweare fate?” he pressed. “You and I? What if we were meant to find each other in this utterly ridiculous manner, here in Yorkshire? What if I was always meant to love you?”
There was the word she had been seeking.
Her heart pounded with so much force, she did not doubt he could hear it. “Do you? Love me, that is?”
“Have I not said so before now? You ought to kick me in the arse.” He flashed her a wry grin that somehow only served to heighten his magnetism. “I love you, Lady Clementine Hammond. I do not know quite when this madness started, but all I do know is that I want to make you my marchioness in truth. I do not expect you to return my feelings immediately. All I can hope is that, given time, you shall—”
“I do,” she blurted.
Chapter 10
