You have another chance now. You have a chance at true love. A love based on shared interests, shared history, a shared sense of humor, and—dare I say it?— shared wounds.
Because as much as I love my brother, I know his faults. Due to his treatment at the hands of our father, Ash turned off his emotions at a young age. He substituted charming smiles and delightful jests for anything of real substance. It’s truly broken my heart all these years to watch him flit from one meaningless affair to the next, never allowing his heart to become involved.
But with you it’s different, Clare. I’ve never seen Ash act the way he does around you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. You and Ash have the chance for a love that is rarely written about in sonnets. It’s not the kind of love that merely brings you flowers or kisses you softly on the cheek. It’s the kind of love that knows what you’ve been through and loves you all the more for it.
TEARS STREAMED DOWNClare’s face, and she wiped them away with her fingers. She sucked in a breath. She had to finish reading.
By now, I hope I’ve made my point and that you’re prepared to stop your flight, turn around and come back, and live the life you are clearly meant to. I am about to go downstairs and say very similar things to my idiot brother, and if I am any sort of persuasive speaker, he may arrive at any moment…
Your future sister-in-law and current closest friend,
Meredith
TEARS CONTINUEDto stream down Clare’s face, plopping onto the pages and smearing the ink. She understood what Meredith was saying, the part of her letter that wasn’t even there. Fear. It was fear keeping Clare from opening up her heart to Ash. Fear of being rejected again and fear of being too happy because happiness was such an unfamiliar emotion to her.
But Meredith was perfectly right, of course. She and Ash had a shared history, a shared sense of humor, shared interests, and shared desires. Soon, they would even share a child.
It was safe. It was safe to be loved and to love and to accept a life filled with happiness. That’s what Meredith was saying. And Clare needed to get back immediately and begin her future.
She knocked on the carriage roof just as it was beginning to slow. She frowned, sitting forward as the driver called out in frustration. There was something in the road ahead.
Or rather—someone.
The door flung open, and before Clare could react, a familiar figure climbed inside.
Ash.
Breathless. Wild-eyed.Gorgeous.
Her heart stopped.
Sparing a quick glance at the still sleeping maid, he dropped onto the seat next to Clare, his chest rising and falling, his cravat loose, his hair mussed. The man looked as if he had been riding for hours.
“What— What are you doing?” she gasped, searching his beloved face.
He threw something onto her lap, still attempting to catch his breath.
She glanced down at it. A diamond.
The biggest, most ridiculous, obscene diamond ring she had ever seen. She hadn’t looked at it earlier. She’d been too focused on refusing him.
“Marry me,” he said, voice hoarse, urgent. “Please.”
Clare stared at him, stunned.
“Ash—”
“I don’t care where we live,” he went on, rushing the words, as if afraid she would bolt out the other side of the carriage. “Paris, London, the bloody countryside—it doesn’t matter. I just need you.”
Her throat tightened.
“I know you’re pregnant,” he admitted, softer now. “But that’s not why I’m here.” His voice turned raw. “I love you, Clare.Notbecause of duty.Notbecause of obligation. Just because you’re you. I love you beyond all reason and all measure, and I think I have since the night you stole into Southbury’s study in search of brandy.”
Tears blurred her vision. For so long, she had convinced herself that no one would ever love her like this. That she wasn’t meant for happy endings.
But here he was.
Begging.
