He would do, he would give, he wouldbeanything.
The only way to survive a storm—or a fight—was to keep your eyes on the horizon and ruthlessly navigate the waves.
* * *
She’d watched his fury grow, first with anger of her own, then with awe, and then with a growing awareness of his physical presence. He was only holding her hand, and yet the way his gaze was moving across her face was intimate—palpablyintimate.
He’d been angry. He’d been hurt. And his pained fury, like her own, had taken him outside of himself. Now, though drained, he watched her intently, as if the key to her soul could be found in her features.
“I insulted your pride, didn’t I?” she asked.
“What pride? I’ve none where you’re concerned.” Again, he lifted her hand to his cheek. His stubble prickled against her skin. “Were you in love with him?”
“No,” she replied truthfully. Nor had she’d felt anything for Karl even close to the storm that was engulfing her at present.
“Did he...hurt you?” The tightness about his mouth fascinated—a tightness fierce as the moment he’d burst from the inn to take on the lion.
“I willingly acquiesced, if that’s what you mean...although someone recently suggested to me that, as our positions were unequal, his advances were inherently unfair.”
“I see,” he said.
Did he?“There hasn’t been anyone else since.” Why had she added that?
“Do you regret your choice?”
With a sharp heart spasm followed by a rush of unbearable love, she thought of Annis—her round, baby cheeks and her wide, serious eyes.
“No,” she said softly. “Icannotregret my choice.” She inhaled. “Although I was disappointed in him. He was not...the man I believed him to be.”
Briefly, he closed his eyes.
“Please don’t ask me who?—”
“I already know.”
She frowned.
“Iseebecause the story you described—the story of seduction and abandonment—was not a story at all, but your lived experience. And Iknowwho to blame because you recognized Fee’s doll. You worked for Prince Karl when he resided in London, did you not?”
The heat was so high in her cheeks her eyes began to burn. “I begin to understand how you felt when you gave me the penny. You know Karl, too—well enough that he gave you that doll.”
“Yes, I know Karl...”
Something in his voice made her shiver.
“...but as anadversary. He is a scoundrel of the worst sort. A libertine, a seducer, and a traitor to his country. Or”—he lifted his brows—“what was his country. I am not at liberty to tell you how or why I obtained the doll, but this much I can reveal—he was driven from Vienna in disgrace.”
Karl....drivenfrom Vienna? Her frown deepened. “Could he have come back here to England since?”
“Would you want to see him if he did?”
She shivered again. “No!”
“Does he hold something over you?”
She felt her color drain but shook her headno. Hurtheven did not look convinced by her denial.
“I will not let him harm you,” he said fiercely. “I swear.”
