Page 166 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“Who?” He hardly breathed the word.

“Harrow.”

Jonathan seized both of her hands. “Allow me this—to whisk you away. Let me give you the stars to wear in your hair, the moon as your halo, and the sun to light up your days.”

How could Louisa refuse? But that meant going against her family, and it would create such a scandal.

They sat and talked about the future, but they made no set plans. Jonathan would never push her. He knew that if they fled, they would have no money, no place to live. As wonderful as love was, it would not sustain them—something her mother brought up that night at dinner.

“I know you prefer another,” her mother said. She never called Louisa’s love by his name. “But flowery words do not last, and they do not feed you. Can he provide for you? For your children? Why, his father gambled away and lost their estate!”

“But I love—”

“Love is not enough. Foolish girl.” Her mother tutted and shook her head.

Not foolish. Love could find a way. Lovewouldfind a way.

Louisa had to believe that. She had to.

* * *

But when Louisa next saw Jonathan, she was not quite so sure anymore. She had followed him into an alcove at a ball. It was held by one of the few friends who had stood by his family’s side despite their recent unfortunate lack of wealth.

Once she was certain that the curtain concealed them from the other partygoers, she clapped her hands. “Why, I almost think you are avoiding me.” She laughed. “I was hoping for a dance.”

“In here? There is not any room.”

“No.” She stepped closer to him. “Out there.”

“Where others can see us? Are you certain that’s a good idea?”

“Why? Because my parents will find out? I do not care—”

“You might not, but your betrothed will.”

She gaped at him. “My…”

“Did you think I would not find out? I would have rather heard from you than from gossips, but…” Jonathan moved to walk past her.

Louisa grabbed his arm and hurried to walk around to face him when he did not turn toward her. Somehow, word had spread about her engagement, only… “I am not engaged to anyone. I am not—”

“You should be. You should marry him.”

Louisa stepped back as if slapped. “Why?” she asked, a hand to her throat. She felt like the blood in her veins had been replaced with chilled wine.

Jonathan would not meet her gaze. “He can give you a house and feasts and gowns…” He gestured toward the purple gown she wore. “And parasols and—”

“I would rather the stars and the moon and the sun,” she said desperately. She had felt so incredibly loved—cherished even—when he had said those words to her. Was her mother right? Were words nothing but empty promises? But, no. She knew her Jonathan, and she recognized how he felt toward her, for she felt the same toward him. And the light in his eyes, the fire, it remained there, burning for her. She could still see it. He looked at her like she was his heart, like she was his treasure.

Jonathan grimaced, the faintest of lines appearing around his lips. The pain in his eyes mirrored the pain she felt at his words. “You know I cannot truly—”

She had to make him see.

“You are my stars.” She grasped his hands and kissed each one. “My moon.” This time, she lifted onto her toes to kiss the tip of his nose. “My sun.” Now, her lips pressed against his.

But only for a fraction of a second before he pushed her away and left her all alone in the alcove.

Louisa stared at the fluttering curtain. How could he be so harsh? This was not her fault! If he but asked her, she would leave with him.

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