Page 57 of Earl of St. Seville

“Because I cannot imagine a future without you,” she murmured, embarrassment staining her cheeks. “I know you likely think that just another naïve notion. We have known one another for such a short time, however—”

“I have never thought any such thing.” His hand cupped her cheek, turning her eyes to his, and she swam in their warmth, nestled against the heat of his palm. Unease and anticipation burrowed within her when she saw her own desire and longing reflected in his eyes. “I could not accept your offer, no matter how much I longed to. London is where you belong, while I belong on Brownsea Island, close to my people and the ocean. I cannot ask you to leave your home, just as I know you would never ask me to remain in town.”

“And if I told you there is nothing left for me here?” she challenged.

“I would disagree, vehemently.” His fingers caressed her cheek. “What of your family?”

Patience scoffed. “I love my family, but I have hurt them all with my crusade. My father has lost friends. My siblings…I can only image what my actions have done to them.”

“They love you.”

“As I love them, but even before you arrived, I had set my course on leaving London,” she said. “Perhaps retiring to my father’s country estate.”

“What in heavens would you do there?”

It was the same thing Patience had pondered. “Teach in the village schoolhouse. Mayhap take up tending the garden—my mother loved it so. Or I could learn a new sport. Archery is acceptable for women.”

“And what of marriage?” His eyes narrowed. “And love?”

Patience chuckled. “You know I am not particularly fond of any man who’s made my acquaintance. And love?” Her chest seized. “I shall come to love the country, the villagers, and perhaps a quiet existence. I will take up reading or science.”

“You could do those things anywhere,” Sin mused.

“I suppose I could.” Was he agreeing to her idea of moving to the country, or was he saying she should remain in town? “However, I do know London is not the place I wish to live.”

“Brownsea has gardens and a wonderful village brimming with kind people.”

“Brownsea?” Patience’s heart stopped before stuttering several times. “You cannot mean…”

The words died on her lips. If she said the wrong thing, what would Sin think? However, remaining silent didn’t seem right either.

“Lady Patience Lane.” He paused, clearing his throat, and Patience’s entire body tensed. He hadn’t been about to say what she longed to hear.

A sob threatened to betray her disappointment. Could she survive another parting like the one in Seven Dials? At least she’d been the one to walk away then, and Sin had been made to watch her retreating back. This time, it would be Patience frozen to her spot as Sin walked away and out of her life.

In that moment, Patience understood the pain her father had faced when her mother’s illness had progressed, and she passed away. She wanted to wrap her arms around Sin and hold him so tightly that he would be unable to leave. She would tell him anything, live her life doing his bidding if only he would promise never to leave her. Never to condemn her to a fate similar to her father’s.

An empty shell.

Without thought, Patience grabbed Sin’s shoulders and pulled him toward her at the same time she stood on her tiptoes.

“Sin.” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, silently begging him not to pull away. It was a sensation of new beginnings, of longings always denied. His mouth was tender against hers as the draw to be closer to him, to wrap herself in his warmth, became inescapable. There was no room for doubt or uncertainty.

Her heart soared ever higher when Sin wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close to his body that her bosom pressed against his chest. The hammering of her heart kept pace with his as their lips melded.

Suddenly, her heart stopped, and her breath hitched. Sin, with her in this moment, was the only thing that mattered to Patience. Not her father, not her past, not the many questions that would follow this moment. None of it held any significance if Sin was not with her.

Patience’s fingers grasped his coat, refusing to allow him to move away.

The feeling inside her…the urgent desire to be close to Sin, would not be fleeting nor diminish with time. Even distance would not lessen her longings.

This was where Patience was meant to be, and it had nothing to do with London or the country or Brownsea.

It wasn’t about a place but a person.

Her mother, Ivory Bess, had been her father’s home…and Sin was hers.

Wherever he was, so would be her heart.