Her chin lifted slightly. “I would have done whatever was necessary. But I too had a plan of sorts.”
“I beg your pardon?” he demanded, rising to his feet again. “Why would you make such a sacrifice for me? For a child born of another woman? For a man who couldn’t even trust you with the truth?”
“Because I love you,” she said simply, the words hanging in the air between them. “I never stopped loving you, Lucien. Not when I thought you were dead. Not when you returned with no memory of me. Not when I learned about Ava and Ava-Marie. Love isn’t something you can simply turn off like a lamp.”
Her words struck him like a physical blow. He had known, intellectually, that she had loved him before his disappearance. He had suspected she still harbored feelings for him now. But to hear her declare it so openly, so fearlessly, in the face of everything she’d learned…
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“That’s not for you to decide,” she countered, rising to stand before him. “I choose who to give my heart to. And I choose you, Lucien. The man you were, the man you are now—I choose all of you.”
Something broke inside him then—a dam holding back emotions he’d kept tightly controlled since his return to England. Without conscious thought, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured against her temple. “Not to Lockwood. Not to anyone.”
“You won’t,” she promised, her arms tightening around him. “Lockwood underestimated us both. I’ve already spokenwith Rockwell and Farah. They’re gathering information to use against him.”
Lucien drew back, surprise evident on his face. “You went to Rockwell?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t come to you. Lockwood said if I did, he’d reveal all. I suspect he has men watching this house and yours. I hope you weren’t followed here. Yesterday, after Lockwood left, I knew I couldn’t face this alone. Rockwell is contacting everyone who might have information about Lockwood’s finances, his secrets—anything we could use to counter his threats.”
“So, you weren’t just surrendering to his demands,” Lucien realized, relief washing through him.
“Of course not,” she said firmly. “I was buying time. At Lady Fenchurch’s ball tomorrow night, I’m supposed to tell Lockwood I’ll accept his proposal, but that I need a few days to break my engagement with you ‘discreetly’.”
A fierce pride filled Lucien’s chest. “You’re remarkable, do you know that?”
She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I would have done anything to protect Ava-Marie from scandal. She’s an innocent in all this.”
“You love her that much?” he asked, wonder in his voice.
“How could I not?” Courtney said simply. “She’s so full of life, so curious and kind. She’s a miniature you.”
Lucien’s heart swelled with an emotion too powerful to name. This woman—this extraordinary woman—had not only accepted his past, his mistakes, but had taken his daughter into her heart as well.
“I learned something else tonight,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Mrs. Bellamy told me about a woman named Kitty who knew Ava in Dublin. She’s the one who told Lockwood about Ava’s past. I intend to find her tomorrow.”
“Is that wise?” Courtney asked, concern evident in her voice. “Lockwood could be watching you—watching us.”
“It’s necessary,” Lucien insisted. “We need to understand exactly what Lockwood knows—and what he might not know. Kitty might be persuaded to help us, especially since Lockwood apparently intends to cheat her and Mrs. Bellamy of their ‘share’ of your dowry.”
Courtney’s face hardened. “He truly is despicable.”
“Yes,” Lucien agreed, his voice cold. “And he will pay for threatening you. For threatening my daughter.”
“Please don’t do anything stupid.” She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on his chest. “We will face him together,” she said firmly. “No more secrets between us, no more lonely battles. Whatever comes, we face it as one.”
The conviction in her voice, the strength in her gaze, overwhelmed him. For so long, he had carried his burdens alone—the loss of his memory, the discovery of Ava’s deception, the despair of carrying his family’s financial situation, the fear for his daughter’s future. Now, here was Courtney, offering not just her love but her partnership, her unwavering support.
“What would I do without you?” he whispered again, his hand coming up to cradle her face. “But I am profoundly grateful for you.”
“Lucien,” she said softly, her amber eyes luminous in the lamplight, “I can’t lose you again. When I thought you had died in Ireland, it nearly destroyed me. I won’t let Lockwood or anyone else take you from me a second time.”
The raw emotion in her voice stripped away his last defenses. He lowered his head and claimed her lips in a kiss that held all the words he couldn’t yet say—his gratitude, his admiration, his growing feelings that might someday match the love she so freely offered.
She responded with equal fervor, her arms sliding around his neck, drawing him closer. What began as comfort quickly blazed into desire, the tension and fear of recent days finding release in passionate connection.
His hands tangled in her loose hair, while hers worked at the buttons of his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. They moved as if by mutual agreement toward her bed, shedding layers of clothing as they went.
