Page 48 of Bride of the Fae Duke

Duty and principle. Only now did the alternative explanation sprout in her mind, far too good to be true yet impossible to shake – that maybe keeping her here was not the obligation he dreaded so deeply.

Rather …

But that couldn’t be, could it?

‘Othrys?’ she breathed.

‘If the choice was mine alone,’ he said hoarsely, lips twitching around the words, ‘which, to be very clear, I don’t expect it to be, then you … you would stay.’

Her heart thudded. ‘Until we had a child?’

‘No.’ He swallowed, throat bobbing. ‘Forever.’

Like in the fairytales.

She forgot to breathe.

Like the lies, some last part of her thundering heart tried to remind her. Like empty promises and senseless dreams. Buthewas the one who’d spoken the word, the man who’d never broken even a single promise to her, and divines help her, that look in his eyes …

‘So …’ Her mouth was dry as dust. ‘So what if I wouldn’t mind that at all?’

He blinked. ‘You wouldn’t mind— Hell, Eleanor. I know you’re not terribly practiced at enjoying life, but let’s raise that bar alittle, shall we?’

A breathless laugh wobbled past her lips. ‘What if it would make me very happy, then?’

‘Are you serious?’ Almost a snarl, and yet this was not his old, emotionless sharpness. Instead, a ragged, fraying one, a bruised heart on the edge of breaking. ‘If you’re merely trying to spare my feelings …’

‘Whatfeelings?’ she burst out, voice cracking. ‘You’re not making sense! How am I supposed to spare things I barely even know to—’

A single step and he’d crossed the distance between them, his arm slipping around her waist as if it belonged there, pressing her against his tall body with a finality she felt in her bones. ‘Do you know why I came back early from that cursed party, Eleanor?’ His voice was rough. ‘Because I couldn’t for the life of me stop thinking about you. Because I almost punched a marchioness in the face for joking about our marriage. Because I finally realised I’d fallen madly, senselessly in love with you, and I wanted to make sure you got the hell out of here before I could kill you, too.’

Fairytales.

Fairytales.

But there was no stopping the mad, hopeful fluttering of her heart, like a bird caught in a cage too small for its wings; there was no stopping the warmth spreading through her chest like a summer sunrise. His touch didn’t leave room for doubt, for disbelief, for pragmatic scepticism. The pressure of his arm was a promise in itself – an unyielding declaration.

Mine, it said, and it felt like truth.

‘But …’ she stuttered against his chest, the world turning on its axis around her. ‘But I’m a bloodyhousemaid! I don’t know anything! I don’t have any manners! People will laugh about me and laugh about you and—’

‘They can all go to hell,’ he interrupted brusquely, lowering his face to the crown of her head. ‘If the fools can’t recognise a treasure when they see one, it’s us who should be mocking them. I don’t care, Eleanor. You're brave and brilliant and far kinder than I deserve, you're all the sense I lack, and don’t you dare tell yourself you’re not enough for me. You’re a lavish abundance.’

She could no longer speak.

She only just managed to lift her head and meet his gaze, his grey eyes mere inches away from hers. In the golden sunlight, his otherworldly beautiful face was softer than she’d ever seen itbefore – no more ice, no more marble masks, as if the summer sun had finally melted away the last of his defences.

‘I’m afraid I went about my first proposal all wrong,’ he muttered, the self-depreciating quirk of his lips a glimpse of the shields she knew. ‘So if you’ll allow me …’

His arm loosened around her waist.

He sank into the grass before her.

‘Othrys,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Othrys, there’s no need for—’

‘Oh, but there is.’ He took her calloused hand in his, bringing it to his lips. ‘Eleanor Finch, you have saved me, freed me, and utterly bewitched me. And I’m afraid I’ll be a bit of a mess while I come to terms with all that’s happened, I’ll probably wallow and whine and make a fuss of absolutely everything, but if you’ll have me nonetheless …’ His fingers tightened around hers. ‘I’ll be entirely, gratefully yours.’

One did not say no to a duke.

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