She nodded slowly.
He turned and walked to the window, staring out with unseeing eyes as he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. He was trying to process this, trying to understand just how far they’d come from two people in love to two people who had been thrown so far apart.
“So you still don’t trust me,” he muttered.
She caught her breath behind him and whispered, “Lucien—”
He cut her off by facing her and saying, “You know that the new Kirkford, he doesn’t only threaten us with his desire to find your husband’s information. It’s evident from his physical attack on you that you are at a great risk, as well.”
She swallowed and he saw the fear in her eyes as she thought of the man who had assaulted her less than twenty-four hours before. “Yes.”
“Do you really think Winstead can protect you from Kirkford’s intentions?” he asked, all but spitting out the other man’s name.
She shifted, and he could see the answer before she formulated it. “If—if he understood the situation,” she whispered. “If he understoodhowto do it.”
Stenfax waved a hand. “He’s damned pup, Elise.”
She bent her head and color flooded her cheeks. “He is young, yes.”
“Christ, you tell him this story and he may not even keep you regardless of any arrangements you made or any…connection you created if you bedded him.” Saying those words turned his stomach.
Her eyes went wide. “I didnotbed him, Lucien,” she said, her tone strangled. “If I had, I never would have come here. I would have stayed out on the street rather than asked you for help if I’d gone so far.”
He almost sagged in relief at that statement. “Good,” he whispered.
“Good that I would have stayed away, or good that I haven’t bedded him?” she said, folding her arms, her eyes flashing.
He moved toward her. “The thought of any other man touching you has always driven me to the brink, Elise. Why do you think I reacted so strongly to your headstrong notion about becoming a mistress?”
“I still see it as my only true viable option, Lucien,” she said, throwing up her hands. “By dragging me out into Society, Ambrose damaged me. And even if he hadn’t, a courtship to a marriage could take months, even years. I don’t have that kind of time and I have no settlement to free myself from Ambrose. Becoming a mistress is a way to remain safe. You must know it is the only reason I would consider that path.”
He folded his arms. She was right, of course. If he dismissed everything else, all the threats against his family, all the lies and mistrust between them, the facts were the facts. Elise was in grave, immediate danger from the new Duke of Kirkford, even more than his sister or the rest of his family.
And there were few options for her. Which meant there was only one option for him. A decision that hit him like a punch to the gut and nearly dropped him to the ground as he made it in an instant.
“There is one other option,” he said softly.
“Then share it with me, Lucien. I will hear anything at this point.”
He set his stance a little wider and cleared his throat as he croaked out the words.
“You could marry me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Four years before Elise had walked onto the terrace at Stenfax’s country home to find it strewn with rose petals and glowing with what had to be a thousand candles. The man she loved had lit up as she moved toward him, then dropped to his knees. He had poured out words of love, promises of a future, and had asked her to be his countess. She had agreed with no hesitation in her heart, naught but joy in her entire being. It had been one of the happiest nights of her life. One she had relived a hundred times in the desperation of the past three years.
Now she faced the same man asking the same question, and it took the air from her lungs. Lucien stood in an almost military stance, his face impassive, his voice calm. There were no flowers or declarations, just a simple suggestion to save her from danger. Like he was offering to escort her to the market or fetch her a cloak so she didn’t freeze.
But when she looked in his eyes, she saw the torment there that he didn’t speak. She dipped her head.
And yet he wanted to marry her.
Perhapswantedwas too strong a word.
“Are you going to say something?” he asked.
She caught her breath. “M-marry?” she whispered, knowing it sounded like idiotic parroting but unable to form any other coherent words in her current shocked state.
