Page 55 of The Earl's Scarred Bride

"And perhaps," she added, her cheeks warming, "someday, when we're ready...I want to hear the patter of little feet in those halls. To see you teaching our children how to be as strong and brave as their father."

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaped him. "Our children," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "You cannot know what it does to me to hear you say such things."

"I think I have some idea," she said, a hint of her old teasing entering her voice. "You're trembling."

"Because I love you," he said simply. "Because I cannot believe I almost threw this away. Because—" He broke off, pulling back slightly to look at her. "May I kiss you, Elizabeth? Or am I still being punished?"

She pretended to consider it, though her heart was already racing at the thought. "I suppose," she said slowly, "that would depend on the quality of the kiss."

Cecil's eyes darkened. "Is that a challenge, my love?"

"Perhaps." She tilted her chin up defiantly. "Though I seem to recall you once claiming you could make me beg?—"

His mouth captured hers before she could finish the sentence, and Elizabeth melted into him with a sigh. This wasn't like their previous kisses—desperate or passionate or teasing. This was something deeper, sweeter, full of promises and hope and love.

When they finally broke apart, Cecil kept his forehead pressed to hers, as if he couldn't bear even that small distance between them. "Come home," he whispered. "Come home with me, Elizabeth."

"Yes," she breathed, then remembered something and pulled back slightly. "But first, we need to speak with my sister."

As if summoned by her words, there was a sharp knock at the drawing room door. "Elizabeth?" Harriet's voice called through the wood. "Are you well? Do you need me to fetch someone?"

Cecil chuckled softly. "Your sister is quite the protective little dragon, isn't she?"

"She learned from the best," Elizabeth replied with a small smile. Then, raising her voice, she called, "Come in, Harriet. We need to speak with you."

CHAPTER TWENTY

The door opened slowly, and Harriet peered in cautiously, her face pinched with worry. When she saw them standing so close together, her eyes narrowed to slits. She marched into the room with all the righteous fury of a protective sister.

"What has he done to you?" she demanded, her gaze darting between them. "What lies has he told? If he's threatened you in any way?—"

"Harriet," Elizabeth said gently, though she made no move to step away from Cecil. "We need to discuss the visit you paid to my husband."

Her sister's steps faltered, a telling flush creeping up her neck. "I...that is..." She twisted her gloved hands together. "I only wanted to protect you. After everything that happened..."

"By telling me my wife wanted a divorce?" Cecil's voice held no anger, only a sort of bemused affection that made Elizabeth's heart swell. His thumb traced idle patterns on her hip where his hand rested. "That was quite clever of you, actually. Terrible, but clever."

"I..." Harriet lifted her chin defiantly, though her lower lip trembled. "You hurt her. You left her without a word, after everything she'd done for you. What was I supposed to do? Stand idly by while you broke her heart again?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," Elizabeth said, though she couldn't quite manage to sound stern. "Though I suppose I should thank you." She glanced up at Cecil with a small smile. "Your interference brought him back to me."

"Then you've forgiven him?" Harriet asked incredulously. "Just like that? After all those nights you cried yourself to sleep? After watching you waste away these past weeks?" Her voice cracked. "Have you forgotten how broken you were?"

"Not just like that," Cecil answered before Elizabeth could. He turned to face Harriet fully, though he kept one arm firmly around Elizabeth's waist. "Your sister has given me another chance that I don't deserve. One I intend to spend the rest of my life earning."

"Pretty words," Harriet scoffed. "But words are cheap, my lord. Especially from a man who abandoned his wife without so much as a note of explanation."

"Harriet," Elizabeth warned, but Cecil squeezed her hip gently.

"No, she's right to be suspicious." His voice was soft but firm. "I've given her every reason to doubt me. But I swear to you, Miss Cooper, I will never hurt your sister again."

Harriet studied him with narrowed eyes. "And if you do? If you break this promise as easily as your marriage vows?"

"Then I give you full permission to come after me with whatever weapon you deem appropriate," he said solemnly. "Though I suspect your sister would beat you to it."

"She would," Harriet agreed, her lips twitching despite herself. "Elizabeth has always been the fiercer of us two, even if she doesn't show it as openly."

"I've noticed," Cecil said dryly, and Elizabeth jabbed him lightly in the ribs. "Ow! You see? Absolutely ruthless."

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