A lump came to his throat. ‘Was there ever a woman more intent on sparking my ire? I was never forced to marry you.’
‘Then why did you?’
‘Because I took one look at you, and I had to have you. There it is, and it is not pretty. It had nothing to do with duty or honour, not even rescuing you from your plight of reduced circumstances. And it is not your lack of fortune or elevation in society, nor your reluctance, that damns my regard for you. It is this.’
Rawden took hold of Grace by her shoulders. ‘I cannot be apart from you without feeling a hole, here, in my heart.’ He pressed her palm to his chest. ‘It is like an ache that will not relent. I cannot bear for you to give your regard to any other man, yet I feel I have not earned that regard. I bought it. I cannot take you into my arms, and my bed without thinking the pleasure of it must be fleeting, unwanted by you, undeserved by me, and dissolving to nothing come morning. With you, I cannot find solid ground.’
‘Rawden. I don’t understand.’
Words tumbled out of him. He could not stop them. ‘Don’t you see? I don’t care if you have been unfaithful, Grace. I don’t care if you have betrayed me a thousand times over. I cannot break free of the chains you have put around my heart, so if you wound me, I am forced to stay and bear it. This is what you do to me.’
Silence followed this revelation as tears welled in Grace’s eyes.
‘Forgive the violence of my feelings. Please, say something,’ he demanded.
Grace blinked, squeezing tears down her cheeks. Rawden focussed on the smattering of amber freckles across her nose so that he would not have to feel the pain of her rejection, but instead, she took his face in her hands.
‘I have never betrayed you, Rawden. I swear it.’
‘How could you, when you are so perfect?’ he said. His words were strangled in his throat.
‘How could I, when there is no other in this world for me?’ she replied, her eyes gentle pools of golden brown.
‘How can you say that? I am vengeful, cold and unkind. I have abandoned you, forced you into a union against your will, abused you grievously.’
‘All that is true, but you have also seen me, Rawden. You have made love to me, and with you, I am no longer invisible, lowly, unworthy. And that is why there is no other for me. That is why I love you, Rawden Voss, fool that you are.’
Grace’s lips pressed to his in the most tender of kisses – deep, heartfelt, searing his soul. He could taste her tears and her sincerity.
‘Do not say it out of pity or obligation. That I could not bear,’ he cried against her mouth.
Her fingers slid into his hair. ‘I mean every word, Rawden,’ she said, somewhere between a cry and a laugh. ‘I did not always love you. I thought I hated you. But I love you now more than I can ever say.’
‘Then show me,’ he said gruffly.
Rawden lifted Grace into his arms and laid her on the bed, and there was not much talking after that.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rawden shivered and pulled his jacket tightly around him as Hardy stamped his feet and blew on his hands. The fields of Putney Heath were furred white with autumn frost. Every hedgerow, every tree, cold and stiff as a corpse, and he would have to keep his hand steady and head clear if he was not to become one by the time the sun was high. Caville Sharp had always enjoyed a reputation as an excellent marksman.
It had been agony to tear himself from the warmth of Grace’s bed before dawn. How he longed to be pressed against her in the bliss of their newly declared love. But if they were to be happy, the spectre of Sharp had to be banished, one way or another. His evil had to be cowed into submission, either by an apology before witnesses or a well-placed lead shot.
‘I hope to blazes your opponent arrives soon before we are discovered. Time is running on.’
‘If he does not show his face, then he is shamed as a coward.’
‘Are you calm, Rawden?’ said Hardy. ‘We need sober heads to prevail here.’
‘Yes, I am calm.’
‘Let us hope Sharp has come to his senses and withdraws, or you must be ready to break the law.’
‘I doubt he has the sense to withdraw, Hardy,’ said Rawden. ‘He will keep coming like a mad dog until he is put down.’
Hardy grimaced at his words. ‘I wish I could disagree, but Sharp has always had a faint whiff of lunacy about him. His recklessness is beyond youthful folly. It is, dare I say it, unhinged.’
‘Well, mad or not, I see him coming.’
