Ash knew how to treat a woman, so it made a certain amount of sense. He did not, however, know how tolovea woman,orhow to convince a woman that he loved her. It was time for Grovemont to return the favor.
“Tell me what love feels like,” Ash demanded as he threw himself into a chair across from his friend in Grovemont’s study.
Lucian barely looked up from his ledgers. “Why?”
“Just answer the damned question.” Blast. His friends weren’t making this whole thing any easier for him.
Lucian sighed, setting down his quill. “It’s terrifying,” he said succinctly, making Ash’s stomach lurch.
Grovemont met his gaze and continued with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s the realization that someone else has the power to wreck you. It’s knowing that your happiness, your peace, your entire existence, is now tied to another person.” He paused andarched a brow. “And the worst part? You wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Ash stared at him. Then he gulped.
Lucian smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me guess. You’re in love.”
Ash groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Damn it. I think I am.”
Lucian chuckled, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough.”
BY NIGHTFALL,Ash had a plan.
By all accounts, it seemed to him that he was most certainly in love. It was surprising, it was alarming, but it was true. Love, it seemed, didn’t wait for an invitation, rather, it sneaked up on a man when he least suspected it.
He had to accept that by telling Clare he loved her and asking for her hand, he would be letting go of the promise he’d made at his father’s deathbed. But Southbury had been right—a man wasn’t meant to stay the same forever. He should grow, change, and gain wisdom along the way. Clinging to the anger of his past would be nothing short of foolish. He would not spite himself by spiting a dead man. He would not allow his father to have that power from the grave.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he had a choice anymore. As Grovemont had said, once you fell in love, you wouldn’t change it for anything. And Ash knew, with absolute certainty, that he didn’t want a life without Clare in it. And he suspected—no,prayed—that she felt the same.
As for Clare’s reputation, he didn’t give a toss. Let the gossips gossip. He only knew one thing for certain: he wanted her ashis marchioness. And if she wanted him too, that was all that mattered.
For a moment, he considered consulting his sister. But Meredith was a hopeless secret keeper—everyone knew that. If he confided in her that he was wildly in love with her closest friend and on the verge of making an offer, she’d likely ruin his entire plan.
No, best to let Mere be surprised. He doubted she’d object after she learned the truth. After all, she’d been trying to marry him off for ages. Well, she was about to get her wish.With any luck. He smiled to himself, already picturing her reaction.
But first, he had to convince Clare. Convince her that he loved her and that he truly wanted to marry her. Only then would she give him an honest answer about whether she felt the same. He suspected she hadn’t taken him seriously before because he hadn’t been certain enough himself. That would change. The next time, he would leave no room for doubt.
Of course, Clare—stubborn, impossible woman that she was—wouldn’t make it easy for him. She would fight him. He knew it.
At the moment, she wouldn’t even see him.
Which meant he had to outmaneuver her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Thursday, The Duke of Southbury’s Town House
Clare folded her arms over her chest and stared at Ash, one brow arched high in blatant skepticism.
A fire.
Really?
How convenient.
She wasn’t certain what was more absurd—the fact that he expected them to believe such an obvious fabrication or the way he delivered the news with that casual, almost bored indifference, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to show up unannounced, bags in hand, ready to settle in at his sister’s town house like an invited guest.
Griffin, ever the gracious host, merely sighed and signaled for the butler to see to Ash’s accommodations.
Meredith, however, wasn’t buying it for a second.
