Her expression softened. “You did what was necessary for Farah’s reputation. I don’t fault you for that. But now, I need to proceed carefully, for my own sake.”
“I understand completely,” he assured her. “You’re protecting your heart, as you should.”
“And reputation.” She stared at him, her amber eyes studying his face. “Axton has been patient and kind through all of this. He deserves consideration.”
“And what do you deserve, Courtney?” he asked gently.
A small, genuine smile touched her lips. “A chance at happiness, whether that’s with you, with him, or perhaps with neither. I am resolute on that.”
Something flickered in her eyes, a softening, perhaps, or at least a willingness to listen.
“I’m leaving for Dorset in two days’ time,” he said, seizing the moment. “To inspect the estate and introduce Ava-Marie to her ancestral home. Would you consider accompanying us? Perhaps your brother Julian and his wife Serena could join as chaperones.”
Surprise registered on her face. “You want me to travel to the country with you?”
“I want the chance to know you away from London’s prying eyes. Away from the gossip and expectations. Just us, discovering who we are together now.” He took her hand, histhumb brushing over her knuckles. “Lauren says we were happy at my estate. You used to visit to see Lauren and then to see me.”
“That’s true.” He watched her as memories he could not share with her rolled across the expressions on her face.
He coaxed. “I won’t press you for more than friendship at first. But I want the opportunity to show you that my interest is genuine and not born of convenience or necessity, but of genuine admiration and affection.”
She studied him for a long moment, her amber eyes searching his face. “And Ava-Marie? How does she feel about this?”
“She asked specifically if you might come. She quite adores you.” He smiled, remembering his daughter’s excitement when he’d mentioned the possibility. “She said you promised to tell her more stories about the stars.”
A genuine smile softened Courtney’s features. “I did, didn’t I?” She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll speak with Julian about it. If he and Serena are willing, I…I would like to come.”
Relief washed through him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Lord Furoe,” she warned, though the ice in her tone had thawed somewhat. “I haven’t decided anything beyond a country visit.”
“I understand,” he assured her. “One step at a time.”
As he led her off the dance floor, he spotted Fancot watching them from across the room, his expression a mixture of concern and calculation. Lucien met his gaze steadily, an unspoken message passing between them. He might not remember loving Courtney, might not recall their shared past, but he knew with bone-deep certainty that he was unwilling to lose her before they’d had a proper chance.
“Axton seems to be waiting for the supper dance,” Courtney observed, following his gaze.
“He’s protective of you,” Lucien acknowledged, managing a more measured tone than his instincts wanted.
A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “As are you, it seems.”
“I am.” He turned to face her fully. “I may not remember our past, Courtney, but I know I want the chance to discover what we might be to each other now. If Mr. Fancot is also part of that journey while you decide, I understand. But I hope you’ll give me a fair opportunity to show you who I am today. He’s had five years.”
“I want that too,” she admitted, a spark of something—interest, warmth, perhaps even hope—kindling in her eyes. “But you do hold an advantage. My heart still loves you. That’s why I haven’t simply walked away.”
“Despite having plenty of reasons you could have,” he added with a rueful smile.
She laughed then, a genuine sound that lightened his heart. “Perhaps I’m simply curious to see what else you might say to redeem yourself.”
“I can be very persuasive when motivated,” he promised.
“We’ll see.” She glanced across the room. “I should go speak with the bride. I haven’t had a chance to offer my congratulations.”
“Of course.” He bowed, brushing his lips against her knuckles in a gesture that lingered just a moment longer than propriety dictated. “But save me another dance before the evening ends?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “The last waltz.”
As he watched her walk away, moving gracefully through the crowd toward where Farah stood radiant beside her new husband, Lucien felt a curious lightness in his chest. Not the passion he’d once felt for Ava, nor the desperate need of safety he’d briefly harbored from Farah, but something steadier.Something that felt, despite the complications and his lost memories, remarkably like coming home.
