He lowered his brows like a professor whose student has missed the point completely. “While I am in your debt, it is unacceptable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. For any reason.”
“Nothing happened,” she said blithely. “I am perfectly well—”
“Are you certain nothing happened?” he interrupted.
“Like I said, the bruise will soon fade—”
“I’m not talking about your injury but about…us.” Squaring his shoulders, he said, “To wit, have I done anything I need to apologize for, Miss Garrity?”
That depends. How sorry are you that you kissed me senseless? That you touched me, told me to ride you, and made me feel such deliciously improper things?
“No,” she said honestly.
His eyes measured her. “No, I don’t need to apologize…or no, nothing happened?”
She couldn’t fight her rising blush. Maybe she didn’t want to.
“Something did happen.” His countenance darkened. “Iknewit.”
She cleared her throat. “Pray do not concern yourself over it, my lord—”
“If it is not my concern, then whose is it?” He lengthened his stride along the pebbled path, forcing her to keep up. “First you are hurt because of me. Then I bloodycompromisedyou.”
Casting a backward glance at the window where her parents were watching, Fi said urgently, “Will you please slow down? We will look suspicious otherwise.”
“I am sorry, Miss Garrity. Sorrier than I can say for the harm I have caused you.” He halted, clearly fighting to compose himself. “My behavior last night was inexcusable.”
“The blame does not lie entirely at your door, my lord,” she said candidly. “And I have come to no serious harm.”
“Will you allow me to rectify the situation by marrying me?”
A connoisseur of proposals, Fi had to give Hawksmoor points for originality. His stark, unpolished offer stood out from the rest. Her own response was also unusual. She’d been proposed to by song and sonnet, yet she’d never felt this stirring excitement, this sensation of wild wings beating in her chest.
At the same time, she refused to take advantage of his honor. Her pride would not allow her to net a husband out of obligation. If they were to wed, she wanted it to be for the right reason: namely, that the match would bear advantages for both parties involved.
Hawksmoor and I each have secrets to hide. Families who want to see us settled. And we share a passionate connection. A marriage of convenience could be just the ticket for both of us.
“You honor me, my lord.” She kept her gaze steady. “Before I accept your proposal, however, I have a few stipulations to make.”
The fact that Miss Garrity didn’t reject him out of hand stunned Hawk.
He felt almost giddy. Quite unlike his rational, level-headed self.
Then the voice of reason took over.First, find out what her “stipulations” are. Fiona Garrity has her pick of husbands. Why does she want you—an older scholar with a temperament so different from her own?
Logic cooled his euphoria. Reminded him of his own misgivings. Even though his honor had prompted him to make her an offer, he was far from certain that they would be a good match. While he was undeniably attracted to her, their personalities were too different. He’d avoided her initially because she was too young and unpredictable, and those qualities had not changed. Hell, this was the longest civil conversation they’d managed to have.
He eyed her. “What are your stipulations?”
“First, you should know that I value my independence,” she said in crisp, businesslike tones. “I am a free-thinking woman. As such, I seek a modern sort of marriage.”
As he hadn’t been born yesterday, he asked warily, “What does a modern marriage entail?”
“Freedom, first and foremost. I am not a lady who would enjoy living in someone else’s pocket,” she said with candor. “I have my own interests and hobbies and would not welcome a husband’s interference.”
Hawk wondered if other men knew that Miss Garrity’s delicate femininity hid a will of steel. He rather liked her forthrightness. Even as her words caused a boulder to sink in his gut.
You knew there was a catch,he told himself.
