Ciaran turned his gaze to the window. London was rushing by, but he didn’t see it. Instead, he saw Lucy right before he’d left her tonight, her dark eyes soft, her lips red and swollen from his kisses. His mouth went dry, and his stomach tight.
He never should have kissed her. It was this damned courtship—it was confusing him, making him feel things he shouldn’t feel for her. He cared for Lucy, but what they had was a friendship, not a love affair.
Wasn’t it?
He turned back to face his friends, dragging his hands through his hair with rough fingers. “I’m courting her.”
Vale and Markham turned to him in surprise. “Who?” Vale asked.
“Lucy, of course.” A frustrated groan left Ciaran’s lips.
“You’re in love with Lady Lucinda, and you’re courting her?” Markham gave him an impatient look. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? Beg pardon, Ramsey, but I can’t see what you’re moaning about.”
“Damn it, Markham. I’m not in love with Lucy, and even if I were, she’s not in love with me. I made her an offer tonight. I offered her my hand, and she…refused me. She told me she wasn’t going to marry at all, and sent me on my way.”
Vale stared at him for a moment before throwing his hands up in the air, thoroughly disgusted. “Well, of course she did. Do you know why? Because they delight in tormenting us. Damn it, a man has every right to expect a courtship will end with a betrothal. I told you, Ramsey. Women are a bloody nuisance!”
Ciaran shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. The courtship isn’t real. I’ve only been pretending to court her to discourage Godfrey’s suit.”
“Wait.” Markham sat up, shaking off his moody silence. “You mean to say Lady Lucinda doesn’t even know you’re in love with her?”
“I’m not—” Ciaran broke off with a heavy sigh. What was the use in arguing about it? “Christ. I think I’ve made a mess of this.”
“I’ve no doubt of that. You know, Ramsey, you might want to tell Lady Lucinda you’re in love with her,” Markham said, throwing Ciaran’s own words back at him. “She likely thinks you’re only offering for her to protect her from Godfrey.”
Ciaran was silent. Thatwaswhy he’d offered for her.
Wasn’t it?
“For God’s sake, what’s all this bloody nonsense about Godfrey and a pretend courtship, anyway?” Vale demanded. “It doesn’t make any sense. Start from the beginning, Ramsey.”
Ciaran blew out a breath. “I promised to court Lucy to protect her from Jarvis and Godfrey. I was meant to jilt her in a few weeks, after she turns twenty-one and is free of Jarvis’s guardianship. But the only way to keep her safe is to take her out of London, and I can’t do that without marrying her.”
It wasn’t just that, though. He didn’twantto jilt Lucy. He wanted to marry her. They cared very much for each other, and the spark of passion between them burned bright—much brighter than he’d realized until he’d kissed her tonight. He adored her, and he wanted her, badly. Wasn’t that enough?
People might go on and on about love, but Ciaran had learned his lesson. Love had shattered his hopes, stolen his happiness, crushed his will. Love had taken everything from him, and left only pain and betrayal in its wake. He’d never be foolish enough to trust it again.
But what he had with Lucy was nothing like that. It was simple, natural, achingly sweet. Not anything at all like he knew love to be.
“I knew Godfrey had been sniffing about Lady Lucinda, but I didn’t think he was any sort of serious threat to her.” Vale was shaking his head, a worried frown on his face.
“Serious enough. Didn’t you see Godfrey dancing with her tonight? He kept her on the floor for three dances, Vale.Three.” Just thinking about it made Ciaran’s fists clench. “He made her do it—grabbed her hard enough to leave a handprint on her arm.”
Markham gaped at Ciaran, horrified. “Jesus. What a scoundrel.”
Ciaran’s blood was burning through his veins. “Lucy despises him, but it hasn’t stopped either Godfrey or Jarvis from plotting to force her into the marriage. I don’t trust either of them.”
“Nor should you. That is, I don’t know much about Jarvis aside from his being a troublesome, tyrannical sort of fellow, but Godfrey’s an outright villain. You can’t let him anywhere near Lady Lucinda, Ramsey.”
“I don’t want to, but I can’t get Lucy to listen to me.” Damn it, he never should have let her go back to Portman Square tonight.
“I didn’t see Godfrey force Lady Lucinda to dance. I was, er…rather caught up with Eloisa. But I heard Lord Henley talking to Lord Weatherby about it, though I didn’t realize they were referring to Lady Lucinda at the time.”
Something about the tone of Vale’s voice made gooseflesh rise on Ciaran’s neck. “What did you hear?”
“Henley must have noticed Lady Lucinda dancing with Godfrey. He said something about what a pity it would be to see another lovely young lady fall into Godfrey’s clutches.”
“Hisclutches?” Bile rose in Ciaran’s throat.
