“I don’t want Lady Catherine.” He stopped a few paces away, his hands hanging loose, his concentration fixed entirely on her.
“You certainly seemed to.” Nell’s mouth twisted.
A broken laugh tore out of him. He dragged a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I was pretending. I’ve been pretending since the moment you refused me.” His gaze sharpened. “Pretending I’m fine. Pretending I’ve moved on. Pretending I don’t see your face every time I close my eyes.”
She lifted a hand between them, palm out, as though she could physically stop the words from reaching her. “Stop.”
He didn’t. He moved closer, close enough that the warmth of him reached her, close enough for the faint scent of lavender in her hair to hit him square in the chest. “I can’t. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. You’re under my skin. In my blood. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I don’t think about anything else.”
Her hand fell. “You don’t even know me that long.”
“I know enough.” The words landed hard. “I know you’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met. I know you’d die for your children. I know you taste like honey and fight like fire.” His chest rose with a heavy breath. “You make me want to be better, Nell. Just to deserve you.”
She shifted back a step, then another, until cold glass pressed against her spine. “You have Lady Catherine.”
“Lady Catherine is Alistair’s sister.” The words were blunt. “Alistair Thorne. My best friend and the man whose life I saved at Waterloo.” His mouth tightened. “She’s been like a younger sister to me since I was twenty. She’s visiting. That’s all.”
Nell searched his face, her lips parting like she expected the lie to reveal itself. “Your best friend’s sister?”
“Yes.” He closed the distance again, close enough to see the frantic pulse at her throat.
“Not your...” The rest dissolved into silence.
“Not anything.” He stepped closer still, until there was barely a breath between them. “There’s no one else. There never will be. Just you.”
She shook her head, even as her gaze dropped—traitorously—to his mouth. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t.” He lifted his hands and cupped her face, tilting it up. His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones reverently. “But understand this—I’m yours. Whether you want me or not.”
Her hands came up to his wrists, gripping without pushing. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“I can.” His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, his breathing uneven. “I’m done being careful. Done pretending. You’re the only thing that matters.”
His name slipped from her mouth before she could stop it.
“Refuse me again.” His forehead dipped closer to hers, his composure finally cracking. “Send me away. Marry your doctor.” His gaze swept hers. “But never doubt that I love you.”
Her whole body trembled—anger, want, fear tangled together. Tears brightened her eyes as he leaned in, the last inch between them vanishing.
Her hand flew up.
The slap cracked through the room.
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t step back. He only stood there, staring at her, his cheek already flushing beneath the imprint of her hand.
“Stay away from me.” She kept her hand raised, unsure whether she might strike him again. Panic flickered sharp and sudden in her eyes. “I mean it. Stay away. Please.”
She reached past him and fumbled with the lock, yanking the door open and fled. He didn’t follow. He stood alone in the study, his hand eventually rising to press against his burning cheek, watching the empty doorway.
Nell ran. She moved down the hallway and through the crowd, not caring who saw or who whispered. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.
Daphne intercepted her near the entrance hall. “Nell? What happened?”
“We are leaving.” Nell didn’t stop or slow. She kept moving toward the grand doors. “Now.”
Edmund stood near the entrance, his hat already in his hands. He saw her face and stepped forward, his brow furrowing with immediate worry. “Nell?”
She pushed past him, lungs burning as she sought the cold night air. “I need to go home.”
