George.
George washere.
Her George, the man she had come to love with an intensity that scared her, had tracked her down to this tiny town where her daughter lived. It oughtn’t to have been possible, and she looked around for an answer. Some reason to his presence here.
At her dumbstruck silence, he smiled. “I see you weren’t expecting me.”
“You should have been in London.”
“I left approximately . . .” He checked his watch. “Eight hours ago.”
A carriage was at the other end of the street, four horses waiting patiently in front of it. For him to have reached her by the afternoon, he must have leftveryearly.
“Your mother told me where you were,” he explained. “Before you fire up at her, she had no intention of doing until I explained that I knew about your daughter and wished to marry you.”
He’d said that to her mother? Her knees felt alarmingly like jelly, and if he had not taken her arm, she might have fallen onto the cobblestones. Everything had happened so fast—and George had found her. Here. Against all odds.
He knew aboutJacqueline.
“I don’t understand,” she said. The only phrase she could bring to mind.
“Then let me make everything perfectly clear, Caroline. The last time, you caught me off guard and I fudged things, as Louisa was kind enough to inform me, but this time I shall do things right.” His warm blue eyes smiled at her. “If you had stayed a little longer, I might have had a chance to explain thatshouldmy father cut me off, I will not be destitute. Moreover, given my father’s health and decline, I’m confident that we would not lose much by waiting until he passes. There’s little he can do to my inheritance from beyond the grave.”
“But—”
“I’m not done.” He took one of her hands, gloveless, and spread her fingers. “I love you, my stubborn, infuriating darling. And I would marry you in a heartbeat even if you were ten years my senior and had fifteen children.”
I love you.
The words scorched her on their way down her throat, as though she was breathing in smoke from a fire.
“Fifteen children would be too many,” she said, and sniffed. “But I have a daughter. I was selling your gifts in order to provide for her. Are you not angry?”
He drew her in closer until the heat from his body soaked through her. “Extraordinarily,” he said against her hair. “Why did you not tell me immediately? I could have done so much more for her if I had only known.”
She pushed back so she could see his face. “You would have provided for my daughter?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t? My darling, I have already made arrangements to pay whatever remains of her dowry.”
For perhaps the first time in her life, she was speechless. Perhaps she hadn’t thought he would reject her outright—he was liberal minded, for a man—but she had never thought he would accept Jacqueline as his own.
“Are you serious?” she managed.
“Utterly. You have consumed my every waking moment since Worthington. I am a man possessed, and a broken heart does me no credit. Louisa informs me I’ve become gloomy.”
All of the things she wanted now within grasp. It seemed too good to be true. Still. For his sake she should advance the last of her arguments. “I’m five years older,” she said.
“You don’t look a day over twenty.”
“You’re a liar.”
“But a charming one.”
That, she couldn’t deny. “And what if I am unable to have more children?”
“I’ve given it some thought and I’ve decided that I have no need for heirs. Not if I can have you.” He made as though to embrace her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. People were already staring. “You are not as old as you think you are, Caro. And if we have no children together, at least I shall have a wife who loves me for more than my title. It’s always been a dream of mine, foolish romantic that I am.”
She did not think she could love him more. “An honourable dream.”
