“But the entire event was orchestrated,” she continued, “so nothing would have stopped the rumors. Even though that arse didn’t get what he wanted, neither did I.”
Bishop chose to not take the last part personally. There was no worse feeling in the world than having your choice stripped away. He could attest to that. One of the small mercies in his life had been the fact that he hadn’t watched his parents die. Not the final act. But he’d known it in his heart even as he ran from the scene at his father’s orders—the hopelessness of not being able to help them.
What hopelessness must she have felt as well?
“I daresay you won in the end, Liss. You won’t ever lose anything again. Not if I can help it.”
She didn’t respond.
Bishop didn’t push any more questions on her either. He simply waited for her breathing to turn even before sliding up to her and gathering her into his arms. There would be a future in which their days were filled with laughter, foolish quarrels, and more happy moments than bad ones. He would make sure of that, too.
Chapter Nine
Alyssia pulled thecloak tight around her before stepping up to the door, nodding at the butler.
You won’t ever lose anything again.
Those words had followed her into her sleep and had occupied every waking thought since then. To make matters worse, she’d woken in his arms this morning, her cheek pressed against his chest! Worse still, instead of being outraged or simply leaving the scene, she’d given into a deeply buried desire and soaked up the position.
And now she needed to get out of the house. Air. Sunlight.
“Where are you going?” a deep voice asked.
She glanced over her shoulder to find Giles, brow furrowed, and the Marquess of Knoxley.
You won’t ever lose anything again.
Wouldn’t she?
What about you, Giles?What about death? What if his uncle slipped through a crack and the entire affair ended in tragedy? What if he left her again, but this time, forever? How would she be able to bear it for a second time?
“Alyssia?”
Gah. She needed to purge herself of those thoughts!
“I wish to take a stroll,” she told him, careful to keep her voice steady, free of all notes that might give away her fear.
The lines between his brows deepened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if someone recognizes you?”
“That’s why I’m wearing a cloak.”
“Alyssia—”
“I think,” the marquess interrupted, “what the lady is trying to say is that she requires a change of scenery.”
Exactly. “At least someone in this house is astute.”
“Still,” Giles pressed. “It’s dangerous.”
“Perhaps,” the marquess started, “a turn about Hyde Park will do?”
“Have you lost your bloody mind?” Giles growled. Alyssia almost laughed at the sour look he sent his friend.
“What? You can take my carriage. Also,” the man looked to her, “I can collect your friend if you wish?”
Annabelle? Come to think of it, Annabelle should have come to call or sent a note in her absence. “Would that not be too much trouble?”
The marquess shook his head. “On the contrary, anything I can do to help my favorite newly wedded couple. You two take my carriage, I shall send for another one and call on your friend. We shall meet back here, or you can send word if you wish to meet at another spot.”
