Chapter Twenty
Lanora stood motionless, stunned. William stood over Lethbridge’s unconscious form, masculine perfection. Tousled curls, coat askew. She’d never seen anything like his dive across the desk. The way he grabbed Lethbridge, the punch, it was all so...thrilling.
She’d been scared in the moment. Terrified, really, that William would be shot. When the pistol fired, she’d stifled a scream.
Now, safe, she felt wholly different. She uncocked the pistol she held and tossed it behind her into the record room, where her reticule remained. Turning back, she saw William’s expression of relief.
Lanora frowned. “You didn’t imagine I would shoot you?”
“You were pointing a pistol at me.”
“Are you that sort of gentleman, then, who doesn’t listen to a word a lady says?”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Only when she’s directing a deadly weapon my way.”
“That, my lord, is the time you must listen to her most.”
“True enough.” He stepped over Lethbridge, wincing.
Lanora hurried to him, her eyes on the hand he pressed to his left side. She pulled at it, seeing blood. A gasp escaped her. “You’re hurt. I didn’t think he hit you.”
“He didn’t. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’re bleeding.” She yanked on his arm, dragging him toward the leather couch. “Come, sit. Will he wake soon?”
William chuckled, the sound only slightly strained, and let her lead him.
“Does your amusement mean he’ll sleep?”
“He won’t wake soon,” William said.
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve hit enough men to know.” He’d reached the couch, but didn’t sit. “Collect your things. I’ll send my tiger for the militia. You shouldn’t be here when they come, or have your name dragged into this. Your man can take you home.”
Was he mad? “Absolutely not. You need a surgeon, and I am not leaving your side.”
He shook his head. “A doctor will have questions, and might talk. I have somewhere to go, someone who will see to me, and you must go home.”
“But why worry over questions? We’ve done nothing wrong.” She scrutinized his face. “What aren’t you telling me? Why can’t I go with you?”
His look softened. “Do you truly wish to?” He gestured at the room, papers scattered everywhere. Lethbridge’s feet sticking out from under the desk. “This can be covered up, explained away. Once you get in my carriage with me, you will be compromised. That’s not how I want to make you mine, Lanora. I would have you agree to marry me, not be forced to.”
She stared up into his warm hazel eyes. “Did you ask me to marry you, just now?”
“I’ve been trying to get you to marry me since we met. All in all, I think I’m doing a splendid job.”
“Do you?” The nerve of him, so certain, and tall, handsome… She suppressed a sigh.
“Are you going to come with me or take your carriage home?” The intensity in his tone belied the simplicity of the question.
“I’m coming with you.” For some reason, the words came out breathless.
“I love you too,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
Lanora gaped at him.
He reached out and used a gentle finger to close her mouth. “Collect your things.”
