The words lingered between them. Rowan exhaled slowly. “I am not doubting myself.”
“Then what is it?”
For a moment, he did not answer. His gaze dropped, as it so often did, and rested on her lips, lingering there just long enough for her to feel it, before he lifted his gaze again to meet hers.
“It is not unreasonable...” he said, his voice lower now. “... to ensure that every detail is accounted for. To see that the evening passes without misstep. That nothing is left to chance.”
“That sounds less like preparation,” she said, “More like fear.”
His brow furrowed. “Fear of what?”
She hesitated, then forced herself to speak plainly. “Of tonight changing everything you weren’t prepared for. Of the boys... Anthony, Daniel... Brook liking Lady Judith so much that they don’t want her to leave.”
His expression shifted, only slightly. “You imagine far too much.”
“Do I?” she asked. “You have never needed this level of reassurance before. Not from me. Not from anyone.”
He stepped closer, not enough to touch her but enough that she became acutely aware of the smallness of the space between them, though she refused to acknowledge it aloud. “Is it truly so alarming that I should wish the evening to unfold perfectly?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lucy said quietly. “But it doesn’t really matter now, does it, Your Grace?”
His eyes searched her face. “What do you mean?”
She drew in a steadying breath, lifting her chin. “Because if everything goes perfectly, then there will be no further need for me. I have done precisely what you asked of me. I have prepared you. I have guided you. I have ensured that Judith sees you asshe ought to see you. If tonight goes well, truly well, then you will be able to propose soon, and my role will be complete.”
He watched her intently, his expression unreadable.
“How does that make you feel?” he asked.
“Elated,” she said at once. “I am rather pleased with myself.”
That earned her a faint, surprised look. “Pleased?”
“Yes,” Lucy said, finding her footing again. “Because it would mean I succeeded. It would mean I have done my duty well enough that I am no longer required. I might even be able to leave sooner than expected if everything proceeds as it should.”
“As it should,” Rowan repeated.
She nodded. “You will propose. Lady Judith will accept. The household will be settled. Your sons will have the mama they need. That is the goal we set from the beginning. I think that is the very definition of success.”
For a long moment, Rowan said nothing. His eyes returned to her lips again, though this time he did not seem aware he was doing it, as though some instinct had overridden his restraint.
“Would it truly be so terrible to be married to me, Lucy Crampton?” he asked.
His words shocked her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her breath faltered, her pulse answering so treacherously and entirely beyond her control. For an instant, she forgot caution, forgot purpose, forgot the careful distance she had promised herself to maintain.
“No,” she said, and the truth of it rang too clearly in her chest. “It would not.”
Rowan’s gaze darkened at once, drawn again to her mouth as though the answer had summoned something he had not meant to reveal. Lucy felt it then, the danger of the moment, the way her honesty had opened a door she had no right to step through.
She gathered herself quickly, finishing the thought she should have led with from the start. “Of course not,” she added, more evenly now. “You are a duke. You are respected, accomplished, and you can sometimes be kind. Any woman would consider herself fortunate to marry you.”
The warmth she had allowed herself receded. “Is that all it would be to you?” he whispered. “A marriage of convenience?”
Lucy met his gaze, her expression composed even as her heart continued to betray her. “It is what it must be,” she replied. “Anything else would be foolish.”
He did not argue with her, though something in his eyes suggested he had not accepted the answer either. The silence stretched, charged so much that it made Lucy suddenly aware ofher own breathing, of the faint closeness of him, of how the room seemed to have narrowed without her permission.
“There is something I have never managed to say properly,” Rowan murmured. “Perhaps because I have put it together in my head.”
