She was hurt, and he was the cause. He was the worst sort. But her refusal to speak with him made him more determined. Even if she refused him again, he must beg her forgiveness.
He shouted again. “Please order Mr. Welsh to stop!” He would not give up as long as breath remained in his lungs.
She leaned out the window again. This time her lips were a thin line of pent-up anger. “You are the Duke of Conclarton. Order Mr. Welsh yourself. I am quite sure your lofty position would override my unworthy one.” She moved back into the shadows, disappearing from his view.
He deserved her rebuff and more.
Robert leaned over to the side of his horse, reached for the carriage’s door handle, and pulled. The door swung open. “This is going to hurt,” he said under his breath.
Feet loose from the stirrups, he leapt from his horse, propelling his body into the carriage, where he hit the floor with a thud. “Ow!”
“Are you mad?” Madeline eyed him as though he truly was a madman. “What if you had missed? You would have fallen to the ground and been pulled under the wheels of the carriage and trampled to death! And what about Trinity? Will he be all right?”
“I did not miss.” He winced, rolling his shoulder as he pulled himself onto the seat opposite hers. “You are more concerned with my horse than with me?”
“I like Trinity.”
Robert winced again under the steady glare of Madeline’s gaze. “Trinity will be fine. He knows his way back to the castle.”
“What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I was a fool and that I owe you another apology.”
She leaned back against the padded seat and folded her arms over her chest. “I am listening.”
He counted her remark as a sign of hope. At least she hadn’t ordered him to jump out while the carriage was still moving. “I love you. Will you marry me?”
Her voice quivered. “We are not suited. You made that clear. You are a duke, and I am the illegitimate daughter of a woman who owns a brothel. I am not worthy to marry a duke, and thetonwill make your family suffer. We would be shunned by polite society. Your family…”
“Do you love me?” He held his breath. He had not considered that she might not love him as much as he loved her. He would not blame her if she had lost faith in him. “I know I have much to atone for. You confided in me, and in the first test of trust and love, I failed. If you give me a second chance, I will spend the rest of my life earning back your trust. Do you love me?” he repeated.
“I do love you.” She glanced toward the open window. “I wish I did not.” The sadness in her voice broke him, strengthening his resolve. He wanted only happiness for Madeline, and he wanted more than ever to make her his wife. “I am aware that if we wed, the consequences for your brother and sisters might be severe. Thetoncan be very cruel.”
He reached across the space that separated them to take her hand in his. “My family will survive. It is true that thetonwill gossip, as they have little to amuse themselves these days. In time, they will discover another scandal that will draw their attention. The Conclartons are made of sturdy stock. But as to you and me being unsuited, I must disagree. Vehemently. You make me want to be a better person. It is I who am not worthy of you. Will you marry me?”
“Your Grace…”
The carriage came to an abrupt halt, launching Madeline from her seat and into Robert’s arms. He laughed, pulling her close. “I will make sure to give Mr. Welsh a raise. His timing is perfect.”
The most adorable smile teased the corners of her mouth as she settled beside him. “You are mad.”
He kissed her on the forehead, tilting her chin and leaning toward her until their lips were a heartbeat away. “If by ‘mad’ you mean madly and impossibly in love with you, then, yes, madam, I am mad and wish never to recover from this state. Will you marry me?”
“You keep asking me that question.”
“And I will continue until you say yes.” He kissed her mouth softly and whispered, “I am most determined.”
“Then my answer must be ‘yes.’”
Mr. Welsh pounded on the door of the carriage. “Is everything all right?”
Robert drew back, keeping his gaze on the woman he loved. The woman who held his heart in the palm of her hands. “Everything is as it should be. If you would be so kind, please turn the carriage around. Miss Madeline Mercer and I have a marriage to plan—and please return as slowly as possible. We are in no hurry to reach the castle.”
Chapter Forty-One
One week later, it was Madeline’s wedding day, and she could not stop smiling. She sat on the bed in her room while a flurry of activity swirled around her. She wore only her chemise as she looked over the selection of Conclarton family necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and tiaras. The selection was stunning. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires shimmered on their bed of velvet like stars in a midnight-blue sky.
When Robert explained the number of guests and preparations who were expected when a duke married, Madeline suggested she would need until spring or perhaps even the following Christmas to prepare. Robert said that would never do, and expressed the alternative solution that they procure a special license and elope.
