“I’m glad he did.” Lucien guided her through a turn, aware of the watchful eyes around them. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Have I?” She arched an eyebrow. “I’ve been rather busy this past week helping to organize this event.”
“With Mr. Fancot, it seems.”
The words escaped before he could stop them, and he immediately regretted them when he saw the spark of irritation in her eyes.
“Mr. Fancot has been kind enough to escort me to several events,” she replied coolly. “In the absence of other invitations.”
The pointed remark landed like a physical blow. “I’ve been occupied with family matters,” he said, which was true enough. Between sorting out his father’s debts and helping Rockwell navigate the aftermath of their faux engagement, he’d had precious little time for courtship.
“Of course. Family matters must take precedence.” Her gaze drifted briefly over his shoulder toward where Axton stood. “I understand completely.”
There was no accusation in her tone, but rather a gentle acknowledgment of their complicated situation. She wasn’t bitter about Farah—they’d already worked through that misunderstanding—but he sensed she was keeping her guard up, protecting herself from potential disappointment.
“Axton has been a good friend to me,” she added quietly. “During the years when I thought you were dead, and even now…he worries about me.”
“Worries?” Lucien asked, carefully guiding her through a turn.
“He’s concerned that…” She met his gaze directly. “Well, to be frank, he’s not certain if you’re good for me, Lucien. Given how much has changed and how easily I could be hurt.”
The music swelled around them, and he drew her a fraction closer, lowering his voice. “And what do you think? Am I good for you?”
She considered this thoughtfully as they moved through the steps of the waltz. “I don’t know yet. That’s the truth of it. The man I knew and loved is gone in many ways. You’re someone new. Someone I might come to care for deeply, but I can’t be certain.”
“Farah is my friend,” he said, understanding her caution. “She helped me when I was lost and confused, returning to a life I couldn’t remember. But what I feel for you is different.”
“And what exactly do you feel?” Courtney asked, not challenging but genuinely curious. “Because from where I stand, Lord Furoe, we’re both still discovering who we are to each other. Mr. Fancot, however, has been quite clear about his regard.”
“And what exactly are Mr. Fancot’s intentions?” Lucien asked, unable to keep a slight edge from his voice.
A small, thoughtful smile touched her lips. “Yesterday, Axton paid me a call and he’s asked permission to court me formally. He’s been a steadfast friend these past years and believes we might suit.”
Suit? If she merely wanted a marriage based on friendship, he could do that. But her words landed with unexpected weight, and Lucien nearly missed a step in the dance. “And have you granted it?”
“I told him I would consider it.” Her eyes met his directly, honest rather than challenging. “I’m not closing doors, Lucien. I spent five years believing you dead, and now everything has changed. I’d just started to move on with my life and suddenlyhere you are. You, but not you. I would be foolish not to keep my options open while we determine if there’s still something between us worth pursuing.”
“I understand that,” he said, though the admission cost him. “But I hope you know you’re not merely a convenient solution to me. I’m not sure I can do convenient solutions when thinking of marriage.”
“I know your intentions aren’t mercenary. Many families would be more than happy to align with your family through a marriage even though your family’s financial situation is dire,” she replied gently. “But the truth remains that you don’t remember loving me. You may have once, but that man is gone. And we both need to be certain of what we want out of a union before making any decisions about our future.”
The last accusation stung worst of all, perhaps because it was the truth. His family did need the security her fortune would provide. But that wasn’t why he wanted her.
“You’re right,” he said finally. “I don’t love you. I can’t. That love was built on shared experiences I no longer remember.” He took a breath, guiding her through another turn. “But I’m not that man anymore. And you’re not the same woman. We’ve both changed. Yet I find myself drawn to you still. Drawn to who you are now, not who you were in my forgotten past.”
Her steps faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly, her expression guarded. “Pretty words, Lucien. But I need more than words.”
“Then let me show you,” he said simply. “Give me the chance to court you properly. To discover who we might be together now.”
“While Mr. Fancot does the same?”
A flash of possessiveness surged through him, but he forced it down. “If that’s what you require.”
The music was drawing to a close, and Courtney stepped back as the final notes faded. “Life has taken some unexpected turns for us both,” she said thoughtfully. “The gossips have had their fill discussing our situation, of course. Though I understand why things happened as they did with Farah, it’s been…complicated to navigate socially.”
Lucien felt a pang of remorse.
“I’m sorry for that additional burden,” he said sincerely.
