“Montrose, Edith, Ophelia?” She moved farther onto the veranda to look over the edge and see them all standing below. “What in heaven’s name are you all doing here?”
“We are here, too!” Lady Chastity chimed in, not one to be left out. “Pru and I.”
“Again, what are you all doing here? My father deposited me at home and returned to the duke’s residence. He should return shortly,” she sighed. “He will find you.”
“With luck, he will find none of us.” Montrose moved around to the stone steps leading up to Lucianna’s private veranda. He took the stairs two at a time and was standing before her in an instant.
She was gowned in a fine nightshift of pure white—all innocence, only broken by the waves of onyx hair that hung clear past her waist. Her toes peeked from beneath her night rail, blessedly bare. She was everything Roderick knew her to be—except her chin no longer tilted upward slightly, and her shoulders sagged.
“My lady,” Montrose croaked. She was far more beautiful than he remembered, but he loathed her air of sorrow. “I am here.”
“Shall I assume my father officially gave Abercorn leave to announce our betrothal?” Lucianna sobbed, a deep, heart-wrenching cry.
Every emotion from the long day drained from him at her cry; anger, fury, desperation, longing, and hurt—he could not grasp and hold onto a single one. His resolve shook, barely holding together.
“What your father says means naught to us,” he soothed, running his hand down her back before pulling her close. “I have a plan—with the help of your friends.”
“What? We will just run off to Gretna Green and be wed in disgrace?” She cringed at the word, knowing she’d brought the term down on his head. “My father will likely expect that move and send a group of servants to catch us before we reach the border.”
“There are other ways.” His mind swirled, trying to land on another option for them, but he could only think of Lucianna in his arms—and keeping her there. “We will find another way.”
“Or mayhap it would be best to return to my chambers and await my father’s decree that will solidify my future.” She pulled away slightly as if to do just that.
But Roderick had her in his embrace, and it would take far more than the Marquis of Camden to take the woman he loved from him.
He stiffened.
The woman he loved?
Blast it all, but he did love her.
It had been many years since he’d experienced anything resembling love, and never a love like this. Yes, he’d loved and adored his mother. He’d respected and loved his father.
But never had he dreamt of loving a woman, especially a female as deserving of love as Lady Lucianna.
There would be no compromise. She belonged to him, as his heart belonged to her.
Never again would he allow her to entertain the notion that she might be forced to wed Abercorn.
“Lucianna, I love you,” he said as he kissed her forehead.
“Love makes wise people do foolish things.” She pulled back to look up at him.
Her eyes were clouded with confusion, yet Roderick didn’t feel confused at all. He set his hands against her cold cheeks. “And it makes a foolish person do wise things. Like finding the woman they love and holding on, no matter what consequences lay ahead.”
“Can it be so simple?” she asked.
A shiver ran through her, and her teeth chattered.
Roderick hadn’t thought about how chilled the evening had grown, especially with Lucianna gowned in nothing but a thin nightshift. “Let us return inside, and I will show you.”
In her chambers, he would have all night to convince her that finding love and holding onto it was just that simple, as long as she felt the same.
But first, he needs must share with her the rest of his sordid past. She needed to know everything before she decided to thwart her father.
Even Roderick had enough integrity to discourage allowing a woman to fall in love with him until she knew the whole truth.
Taking her hand, Roderick turned toward her open veranda door and the warmth that certainly lay within. Surprisingly, she followed without resistance. If she hadn’t, he’d been prepared to sweep her off her feet and carry her back to the heated bedchambers.