“No.” She swung her gaze back to him. “I left because I believed my sister had betrayed me. Yes, Michael was involved... but he doesn’t matter. I thought having him would mean I would be out of the fray. Actually, to be candid, I wasn’t comfortable with all the attention. I would dance with a gentleman once, and the next day he would appear on our doorstep with an ode pledging undying love. It was nonsense. The trip to London, the scheme to marry dukes, that was all Dara’s dream. Because my cousin had taken over Wiltham, Gwendolyn and I went along. What else were we to do? We couldn’t stay behind. We are sisters.”
Clarity was a strange thing. It appeared at the least expected moments, as it did now. He was ready to stop running. “Elise, you are going to return to your life.” As he would his. “We both will.”
She reacted as if he’d struck her. “You are not hearing what I’m saying. Kit, I wish to be with you. My life in London means nothing to me.”
“You deserve better than what a fellow like me offers.”
“You are wrong. From the moment we met, you have been the noblest man of my acquaintance.”
He frowned. “I am no hero.”
“You are to me. No matter what has happened or how much we have disagreed or what I’ve done, you’ve guided and protected me. You were even the one to stop that kiss. I would have gone further, Kit. I—” She paused, met his eye. Even in the moonlight he could see her question herself and then she rose to her feet.
“I’m Elise Lanscarr, a homeless Irish lass, possibly an orphan. See? There is nothing special about me. However, the one lesson I learned from my father that matters is that when you have found something good, hold on to it. You aremychoice, Kit.” She paused. “I pray you return my feelings?”
God help him, he did. And he needed to tell her the truth. To be honest with her. Wasn’t that what she said she valued?
Before he could speak, Elise reached behind her and pulled the laces of her dress loose. The gown dropped from her shoulders. The tips of her breasts stopped it from falling to her feet. Thin white material clung precariously. One shrug of her shoulder and she would be naked in front of him.
And he wanted what she was offering. He wanted to know if her nipples were pink and rosy or dark brown. To admire the indentation of her waist and the golden triangle he knew was there. He wanted to hold her, make love to her, watch her laugh, and ease that little worry linethat appeared between her brows. In short, he wanted all of her.
But if he took her, if he despoiled her, she’d be ruined. There were those who would already label her damaged goods because she’d been in his company unchaperoned for so long.
Aye, he could protect her with his name, but she would be losing the freedom to make her own choices. If Elise knew everything about him, she might not be so anxious to declare herself to him. She could end up being trapped by Society’s standards.
He walked across the room to her. Her eyes grew rounder the closer he came. She lifted her chin as if determined to see this thing through.
Kit reached out, took hold of the shoulder of her gown, and pulled it up. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.
Then he admitted very quietly, “I care for you too much to let you do this, Elise.” He turned and left the room.
***
Elise sank to the bed, her legs shaking.
What had just happened? She didn’t understand.
She had offered him everything... and he had turned her down?
He’d said he cared for her, but there had been heaviness in his voice. This did not make sense.
She had taken a huge risk. And then, just as she’d believed he returned her feelings, she’d lost it all. It was because she’d been too bold, she told herself. That was why he’d left. She shouldn’t have been so honest with her emotions.
Elise lay back on the bed. She looked up at the ceiling. She turned the memory of their kiss and his words over and over in her mind. He was not like those oafish lords who made declarations that had no meaning.
No, Kit had thought out his words.
She rolled to her side, curling into a fetal position. The bed felt very empty. How did one miss something they had never had?
It was her last thought before she fell asleep, full of regret and exhausted by loss.
The next morning, she woke shortly after dawn. Kit had not returned to the room.
Elise was careful with her toilette. She wanted to be at her best, even if her hair was just worn in a braid. She went to the door, not certain what to expect when she left the room.
The cottage was a small one. She heard sounds around the hearth. Kit was there along with the Forkners. They seemed all in good spirits. They were eating porridge. A bowl was prepared for her.
“I hear your man was lucky last night,” the elderly man said.
