She managed, “You’d do better courting your fiancée with that flummery.”
Perhaps he already did. Perhaps that is what took him so long to catch up to you.
“She’s not my fiancée. And it’s not flummery. It’s the truth: I love you, Maggie mine.”
“Apparently love isn’t enough.” She stalked on.
“It is with you.” He caught her arm, stopping them beneath a streetlamp. “Can we stop this damned chase?”
“We can—if you stop following me.”
“I’ll never stop. I can’t.” In the lamplight, determination and desperation blazed on his face, making him even more impossibly handsome. “God help you, Maggie, but you’re the one for me, and I’ll have no other. That is why it took me so long to find you: I had to tell the Sharpes that negotiations are over.”
She swallowed. “You told them that?”
“Unequivocally. There’ll be no more talk of engagements for me—unless it involves you.”
Relief shivered through her. In the next instant, he slid his jacket over her shoulders.
“You’re going to catch cold,” he said quietly. “Come, we’ll talk more inside.”
It was then that she noticed his carriage following behind them. She allowed him to help her up into the cozy velvet-lined cocoon. After instructing the groom to simply “Drive,” Rhys sat beside her. Took her hand in his.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Sorry you had to witness that. Sorry that I’ve involved you in this mess. Most of all, I’m sorry that I can’t let you go.”
“I don’t want you to let me go.”
“It isn’t fair that my love should endanger you.” His eyes had a feverish glow, his voice gritty as ash. “If harm should befall you because of me, I couldn’t stand it. I can’t fail you too. Not you, Maggie.”
In a flash, she understood why he’d been hesitant to commit to her all along. His fear of not being able to protect her…it was tied to his loss of his mama. The other woman he’d loved—and lost in a devastating manner.
The realization melted away her anger.
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she said firmly. “Tomorrow we’re going to find that key in Limehouse and then the jewels. All will be well.”
“Promise you’ll never leave me.” He gripped her hand as if she were driftwood and he a drowning man. “Promise that when this is over you’ll be my duchess, my wife, my love for as long as we both shall live.”
“I promise. Oh, Rhys,”—her voice broke a little—“I love you so.”
He exhaled, and it was then that she realized that he’d been holding his breath. The joy glowing in his eyes overflowed her heart.
“Maggie mine,” he whispered.
Their kiss was slow, tender, and soul-altering.
Then he lifted his head, his brows drawn. “Christ…I just realized. I don’t have a ring.”
He—her urbane duke—looked so sincerely flummoxed that her heart melted even more.
“I don’t care about the ring. All I want is you,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry…for overreacting earlier. For not giving you a chance to explain before I ran out.”
“I don’t blame you. If the situation were reversed, I’d have lost my bloody head.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I’ve never been in love before, Maggie. I don’t know how good I’ll be at this—at marriage. You’ll have to teach me how to be a proper husband.”
His boyish earnestness was beyond endearing. It also reminded her that, while he’d spilled his heart out to her, she’d not done the same. She’d held back a truth, and she didn’t want to any longer. Didn’t want anything between them.
“Rhys…about my marriage,” she began hesitantly.
“Yes, my love?”
