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“Asquith,” she answered in a tiny, almost inaudible whisper.
“Simon,” he corrected.
She shivered as she inhaled. “By staying away, I was complying with your wishes.”
He moved his shaking knuckle along the length of her neck. “And what do think my wishes are?”
“You’ve been—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “You’ve been quite clear.”
“What I’ve been is a fool.” He slid his arm under hers, and he gently guided her into a full embrace. Her heat dissolved the tension he’d carried for weeks. He spoke against her ear, “Am I being clear now?”
“I’ve wished for this,” she said on a sigh. “I’ve wanted this.”
“Then take what you’ve wanted and wished for.”
She sagged against his chest, her slight weight a welcome burden. Cherished. Exactly where she should be... right over his heart.
“I want us to marry,” he said.
“Asquith!” She pulled back. Then, she placed both her hands against his chest and shoved. “Have you gone mad?”
He stumbled backwards but caught himself just before he fell.
“Don’t you want to marry me?” he asked.
Her eyes widened at the same time her nostrils flared. He frowned in confusion. Her own brows knitted, she moaned mournfully, cupped her forehead, and then turned away.
Mutely, she stared at a blank, featureless wall.
“Not the response I expected.”
“Why?” The single word hovered in the air. “Why do you want us to marry?”
Because the Lord Chancellor had given the match conditional approval? Because he now understood he could possess her and retain his horses? Because he’d fully participated in their last kiss, and now he wanted more?
He kept all three reasons to himself. He couldn’t imagine any of them would earn him her regard.
“Or am I not to question you on that matter, either?” she asked.
Definitely not fully forgiven. “I cannot tell you how deeply I regret chastising you.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“Of course, you may ask why,” he continued. “But, in truth, I didn’t think you’d inquire.”
She growled.
The real Lenora growls. Absently, he added to his list.
“I thought you cared,” he said. “I thought you cared enough about me to say yes. Was I wrong?”
She growled again. Then, she swiveled back. “And what about you? Do you care?” Her eyes burned with intensity. “Do you? Care? About me?”
“Obviously, I care for you.” He heard another echo of their discussion in the yew maze. He decided to carry it forward. “Obviously, because you are my ward. Obviously, because I yielded to your blackmail. Obviously because when you saw me naked, I—”
“Asquith,” she interrupted. “Please.” She bit her lip. “If you truly care for me, why did you chastise me so harshly? Why did you tell me you resented me?”
“Not you. Never you.” He frowned, thinking back. “I told you I resented your probing, and only because I didn’t want to admit my true feelings. I hadn’t yet admitted them to myself.”
