His reply was swift and clear and closer than she’d expected.
Chills lifted the hair on her nape before cascading down her spine.
“When we parted…earlier,” she said, her body tingling as she felt him come even nearer, “you said you expected an answer to your offer.”
“I did.” His voice was a hum of sound just behind her.
She stilled, anticipating. But he did not reach out to touch her.
She licked her dry lips. “I have a question first.”
He made a sound that might have been a grunt of assent or a chuckle of amusement. “All right.”
Charlotte inhaled. Then exhaled.
“Why?”
A pause. Then, “What?”
“Why did you offer to marry me? Even after learning why I wish for a husband—knowing where I come from, my family… Why?”
He cleared his throat, but before he could answer, she continued in a tumble of words, “There is no way I’d be considered a proper match for a future duke. It’s exactly why I’d enlisted professional assistance to acquire the kind of match I needed. A gentleman like you requires a woman of elite social standing. A woman with a grand dowry and all the graces and accomplishments young ladies of the ton are expected to have. I have none of that. So—knowing all that you know about me—why on earth would you make such an offer?”
The sound he made then was gruff and deep. “Look at me, Charlotte.”
She didn’t want to. But she didn’t wish to be a coward. Not now. Lifting her chin, she turned in place.
He stood just over a pace away. A fire smoldered in his gaze as his voice lowered. “I would’ve made the offer knowing nothing at all of your family or your purpose in coming to London.” She began to shake her head, but he narrowed his gaze and took a half-step toward her. “All my life, I’ve known exactly what kind of woman I must someday take as wife. She would have to be all those things you mentioned and then some. Just like everything else, it was an expectation I accepted as part and parcel of being my father’s heir.”
He took a breath and leveled her with his gaze. The furrow between his brow deepened.
“But I did not revel in it. I would’ve done my duty, but that’s all I expected it to be.” The corners of his mouth twisted upward as he lowered his chin. And a flicker of something true and intimate entered his eyes. His voice dropped to a rich murmur. “And then I met you.”
Charlotte gasped a soft breath. The way he’d said the words made them feel like a wonderful, wicked secret. “Me? Or Madame?” she whispered.
“Both.”
He took another small step, bringing himself as close to her as he could without touching her, forcing her to tilt her head back to continue meeting his dark and lovely gaze.
His voice was rich and true as he continued. “I was distracted and frustrated by the obligations and responsibilities that I’d never asked for when I carelessly stumbled into a woman who would forever change my belief of who I was. A woman who was unabashedly bold and confident and full of purpose. A womanwho did not allow me to remain propped up by my position but pushed me to look at myself in a new way.”
His smile widened and his eyes flashed even more wickedly, sending delightful thrills through Charlotte’s blood.
“Around the same time, I was manipulated into a clandestine arrangement with a woman who unlocked the deepest desire in my soul. The desire to be nothing more than a man, stripped bare of title, privilege, power. A man who could finally—for the first time—discover himself for who he was beyond the confines of his role in family and position in society. A man free to explore who he was at his core. A man who could kneel before a woman of brazen confidence and bold conviction and somehow feel stronger than he’d ever felt before.”
Charlotte nearly melted. Her mind was buzzing with his words. Her heart raced with a wild sort of hope and her belly twisted deliciously. Could he possibly mean what he was saying?
His stare flickered then as his attention fell softly to her mouth. For a moment, he seemed to lose his train of thought. His brow lowered and his jaw clenched before he drew a swift breath through his nose.
“Charlotte,” he murmured, the word more a breath than true sound, as he lifted his hand to gently brush his knuckles across her cheek. “You came into my life so proud and fierce—with the grace and strength of a fearsome lioness. And you demanded the same of me. You gave me the freedom to discover truths I’d long denied myself. And that man—the man I want to be—has fallen in love with a woman who speaks French like a native Parisian. A woman with passion and fire and the deepest loyalty. A woman I trust to hold to the darkest, most private parts of myself in her capable hands—who gives me the wonderous gift of surrender. A woman who would fight with all her heart and soul to honor someone she loves.”
Charlotte released a breathy sigh that somehow got stuck in the thickness of her throat. Her eyes burned with emotion, but she refused to blink.
Especially not when he lowered his head toward hers and stared deeply into her eyes to say in a dark and earnest whisper, “I love you, Charlotte Dickson, and I know you’ll make a magnificent duchess.” His lips quirked with a hint of wicked amusement as his voice deepened to a gravelly texture. “You’ve already perfected the necessary air of authority.”
The sigh that had been caught in her throat finally escaped in a soft, choked laugh. But her next words were sincere and sad. “How could you possibly love me? You must think me such a heartless, mercenary creature for plotting to take a wealthy husband just so I could hurt my grandparents.”
He shook his head and gave her a stern look. “I know it all came from the pain of losing your mother. I cannot imagine how devastating that must have been for you. I can understand why you might’ve felt such an intense need to do something to right the great wrong that had been done to her.”
