He laughed and took her hand. “When we were here the last time, I raised a subject that I want to talk about again. I would like us to marry.”
Nothing changed in her expression. She continued to look out over the farms. Her half smile did not alter. She remained at peace. Perhaps, just perhaps, a few lights went out in her eyes.
“You want to do the right thing,” she said. “That is decent of you.”
“On such matters I can be a scoundrel with the best of them. I am not proposing out of obligation. I think we suit each other very well.”
She looked at him. A million stars sparkled now, because there were tears in her eyes. “We do, don’t we? If this were truly another world—what a scandal you would cause, if you married me. Could you survive it through your birth alone? To marry the daughter of a criminal, a man who might be hanged? I doubt it. I thinkyour brothers doubt it. They know you cannot have me. It is in Gareth’s eyes when he looks at me. The apology for what will come.”
“I do not care about any of that, damn it.”
“Youwillcare. To have been in the center, then pushed to the edges—I think it is easier to have lived as I have, on the edges from the start. And when do you think to make this marriage? Before you serve as prosecutor, or after he is gone?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Never. I have decided I will not do it.”
She gazed up at him in shock. Her eyes blazed. “But you must.”
“The hell I must. I will not be responsible for giving you that pain.”
She twisted and squirmed out of his hold. She stepped back, and faced him, straight and tall. “Yet I will know the pain anyway. Your refusing to prosecute spares me nothing, and may make it worse than it has to be.”
“It is perverse to suggest that after what we have shared, I go into court against your father, Padua. It is out of the question now. I will remove myself.”
“If you don’t, who will?” She strode to him and stuck her face up at his. “Some fool who will only think he has won if the accused swings? A man more interested in the coin he earns than in justice? My father may be guilty of playing a minor role in a big crime, but there are those who will make it sound as if he planned it all and grew rich in the process, and worse.”
His temper spiked. He walked away from her, so hemight leash it. “After this week, for me to prosecute would be dishonorable. I could never be effective. I must remove myself. Hell, I knew I had to before we even left London.”
“You did?” It was more an accusation than a question.
“Of course. A man cannot do to a woman what I did to you at Langley House, then claim impartiality regarding her kinsmen. Did you really think I would have you like this, then pretend I represented the Crown when your father was tried?”
Her expression cracked. Shattered. She bit her lower lip. She hugged herself, and stomped her foot in an effort to contain her emotion. “But you must. You must.” She stomped her foot again. Her face twisted in anguish. “I have made such a muddle of it. I am an idiot.”
His worst misgivings resurrected from where he had buried them. They spread all through him like a bad chill. He almost choked on the disappointment they bred. “Padua, in my house that first night, you were tempted to try to bribe me. It was in your eyes. Is that what you have been trying to do? Convince me to do other than my best in court?”
She just looked at him, her eyes filming all the more.
“I could not blame you for it,” he said. “You are nothing if not brilliant. And loyal.”
She shook her head. “Please do not think that. Please do not. I did not open my door to you because of any of this. If I had known doing so would mean you walked away completely, however—your best is honest and just,and others’ might not be.” She turned away and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes.
He went up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Her tears convulsed her, then started to ebb. When she had collected herself, she leaned against him and held his arms against her body.
“Did you read your letter?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“But you will refuse. Is that normally done?”
“No.”
“You cannot help him at all, then, can you? After refusing to prosecute, to defend would be a slap in the face to whoever wrote that letter.”
The high chancellor was the least of it. She did not need to know that, however.
He helped her onto her horse, then mounted his own. They headed back to the house. She remained thoughtful.
“Ives, you spoke of pretending to represent the Crown. Is that who the letter was from? The king’s men, or the regent?”
