Miralovedhim.
He did not know what the devil that meant for them. They were still unequal, and she was conflicted about her duty to her children, which he respected. All hedidknow was the soaring emotions inside his chest. Happiness. Love. Hope, too.
He kissed her with all the feelings he had done his utmost to drown during the time they had been apart. She tasted of tea, floral and sweet andMira. Now, all he wanted to drown in was her. But as all the pent-up need for her clamored through him, he reminded himself he was a guest in her massive, fancy home. That she was a duchess. And that whilst she loved him, she had also been willing to leave him.
He ended the kiss with great reluctance, staring down at her upturned face. Had she grown more beautiful in her absence from his life?Christ, it certainly seemed so. He wanted to kiss every freckle on her nose. Wanted to take her in his arms and carry her away with him and never let her go. She was all he wanted.
“I am willing to do whatever you ask of me,” he said, swallowing the tattered remnants of his pride. “Tell me what you need.”
Her lips were swollen, her eyes wide. “I need to tell you something, Damian.”
“Go on,” he urged.
Whatever it was, he would weather the news. Nothing could be worse than what he had already endured, a fortnight without her.
“I believe I may be in a delicate condition,” she said, her countenance stricken.
Mother of all saints.
“You are carrying my child? Our child?”
“Yes.” She nodded, still studying him with care. “Our child.”
Wonder burst open inside him, like a spring bud under the warmth of the sun. Ever since the moment he had first laid eyes on her fiery curls and those brilliant blue eyes blazing behind her mask, he had been in the palm of her hand. And now? His joy was radiant, uncontrollable.
Until something occurred to him.
“Were you going to tell me?” he asked, needing to know. “If I had not called upon you today, Mira, would you have told me?”
“The discovery is a recent one. I would not have kept our child a secret from you, but I was also trying to decide how best to proceed, given my place in society and your position in the East End.”
Hurt sliced through him. “I ain’t good enough for a duchess.”
“You are good enough.” She sighed, her lower lip trembling, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You are my better in every way. You have been nothing but sweet and considerate and wonderful to me, and I have rewarded you by running away because I was not strong enough.”
“To the devil with that.” He caught her chin in his thumb and forefinger, tenderly stroking her soft skin. “You are stronger than you think, Mira. You were bold enough to break society’s rules when you came to me looking for a lover.”
“But Lady Fortune is circumspect,” she argued. “I was wearing a mask. To you, I was nothing more than a number and half a face.”
“You were the woman I have been searching for,” he countered, caressing her cheek now, grateful for his lack of gloves, for the warmth of her searing him, unobstructed. “You astounded me, put me under your spell. I had to have you.”
“You have me now.”
“In my arms, aye.” He pulled her nearer, lowering his forehead to hers. “But what of more, Mira? I was born a bastard. I’ll not do the same to a child of mine. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Her affirmation filled him with a swelling sense of relief.
“Thank Christ.” He kissed her nose. Kissed every bloody adorable freckle he could find.
“But there is much we need to concern ourselves with,” she said, and his happiness was like an ascension balloon suddenly plummeting back to the earth. “I am older than you.”
“You are also more beautiful.”
“Ten years can be something of a difference.”
“I don’t give a goddamn about the years, Mira.”
