“Says the man who wants me to marry him but has not told me what he feels.”
He threaded his fingers with mine. “My father used to say something about actions shouting and the cheapness of words. Or was that my mother, the poet?”
“Easily said for the man who likes danger and carries a whip.”
“Tonight, I will show you more of the pleasures of the world that Adam was too stupid to appreciate. We can discuss my whip later.”
“I don’t need to be swayed by your wealth. My family has means.”
“Yes, they do. That’s why peers dip into the merchant class for brides like you, with dowries, like your barrister. Excuse me, your former barrister.”
“Marriages of convenience are common, even among peers.”
“As I said in your father’s study, our marriage shouldn’t be of convenience but of passion, lots of passion.”
“Passion can be scary. It can be violent. I don’t want that.”
Wycliff kissed me on the nose. “You are wearing me down, Ruth. You are going to make me a eunuch. I’m almost to the point of breaking and agreeing to a marriage of convenience. But I am going to stay strong for you. Strong and irresistible.”
I touched my temples.
“What is wrong?”
“I’ve strained too much trying to stare at you. Why must you be so fascinating? What will you do when my vision finally fades?”
He put his hand about my back and drew me to him.
“Wycliff, I’ve never admitted that I’m frightened by it. I don’t let myself wallow or be angry. I know that you are trying to bring justice to those who hurt Adam. I figured that out when I heard those voices last night, those familiar voices.”
Wycliff turned away and stayed silent.
Had I upset him? I had crossed that invisible line about not talking about his business.
“Ruth, I will see them tonight before intermission. I will be safe in this public place. It’s the only way to keep them from Blaren House or Fournier.”
My chest pounded, but I held on to my composure. Wycliff had just shared his deepest concerns. He thought me strong enough to know.
I wrapped my arms about him and gently tucked him to my bosom. “Don’t wrinkle my gown. I want to look well on Lord Wycliff’s arm.”
“This deep blue is so lively. So sweet on your figure.”
He traced the long scar on my face. “This wound, blunt and jagged, was caused by a heavy blow. It almost killed you. It’s surely responsible for the decline of your vision. But that didn’t stop you. There is such strength in you.”
My nails dug into his shoulders. I stayed away from his neck. I’d seen him wince once too often when Chris hugged him there. “Nice of you to notice.”
“What doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger?”
“You keep sounding like Adam.”
“Ruth, never doubt how strong you are. I desire your strength, but if I keep something from you, it’s not because I don’t trust you.”
“I want to help. I want to be someone you can count on, Wycliff.”
“Because you are falling in love with me, Ruth?”
I didn’t know what I felt, but it was deep and strong, and it scared me. It was as if I’d known him forever, but we’d known each other barely three weeks. “Maybe.”
“I have to keep working until you are desperately in love.” He kissed my nose again. “I do understand you, Ruth. I think you understand me.”
