Could the man honestly be that obtuse?
“Because your lastproposalwas a lecture on duty and responsibility. Despite the fact that I am not the paragon you want for a wife—that I am amistake,as you so charmingly put it—you charitably offered to take me on anyway, in spite of your good judgement.”
Heartbeats pounded by as he stared at her, looking… surprised? Ruddy color tinged his broad cheekbones. Lifting a hand, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he muttered.
“Well, that’s the way it came out. And I have no desire for a repeat performance. Trust me, I’m fully aware of my flaws and don’t need to have them pointed out to me.” Her breath grew choppy; she had the sudden panic that she might burst into tears. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, her vision blurring ominously, “I’ll see myself to my room.”
“Wait.” He caught her by the arm.
“Just let mego.” Determined not to let him see her cry, she struggled against his hold.
“Violet, please. I… I’m sorry.”
At his hoarse words, she stilled. He was… apologizing? To her?
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m not skilled when it comes to dealing with… affairs of a personal nature.” The gruffness of his admission made her throat swell. “I haven’t my brother’s charm or ease with your sex. Sometimes I say things, and they don’t come out as I intended. That is my failing entirely—and not a reflection of my regard for you.”
Violet stared at his sincere, rough-hewn features, unable to form words.
He released her arm. His gaze fixed on the carpet as if the pattern explained the mysteries of the universe. “I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’ve not acted like a gentleman where you are concerned. But even so,”—his voice was gravelly—“I cannot regret what has passed between us.”
The thumping of her heart grew loud in her ears. All at once, emotion surged. She didn’t have the wherewithal to push it back.
“You’re crying?God,I’m such a bastard.” Looking stricken, Carlisle cupped her jaw with both hands, his thumbs wiping clumsily at her tears. “Damnit, I’m so sorry…”
His tenderness was unexpected and…awkward. Endearingly so. It unleashed a tempest within her, and she began to weep. With a groan, Carlisle gave up trying to dash away her tears and pulled her into his arms instead. His embrace was too tight, the buttons of his waistcoat jamming into her cheek, but he stroked her back, murmuring bits of nonsense against her hair.
Vi didn’t cry often, but when she did it was oft like this: as intense and brief as a summer storm. When the tears subsided, awareness returned to her... along with a feeling of supreme foolishness. Embarrassed, she pushed at his chest. He let her go and silently handed her a handkerchief.
Fighting a sniffle, she wiped her cheeks. “Just so you know, I’m no watering pot. I don’t know where that came from.”
“’Tis the stress, I expect. You’ve been through a lot. First there’s the assignation in the library, then finding a dead body. And I had to go top it off with the worst proposal in living memory.”
His dry humor startled a hiccupping laugh from her. His expression remained stoic, but the line of his lips bent a little. A rueful curve.
“When did you become so understanding, Lord Carlisle?” she said.
“Just now, when a young miss put me in my place and deservedly so.”
In his iron-dark gaze, she thought she glimpsed a smile. Her heart fluttered.
“Feeling better now?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said shyly. “Thank you.”
He reached out, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, his touch mesmerizingly sweet.
The sound of footsteps dispelled the magic of the moment. They sprang apart just as Miss Turbett appeared at the end of the hall. She was walking with her head down, apparently lost in her thoughts. When she was in danger of plowing right through them, Vi spoke up.
“Um, hello, Miss Turbett.”
The other miss started, her grey gaze flying up. “Oh! My, you gave me a fright. I’m afraid I didn’t…” She bit her lip, bobbed a curtsy. “Good afternoon.”
Violet and Richard both returned the courtesy. Vi noticed that the other girl looked paler than usual—which was saying something. Beneath Miss Turbett’s fine, translucent skin, tracings of blue veins could be seen, and purple smudged below her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Vi said with concern.
