Page 82 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Lucy wanted to say no, but if she went with him, she could tell him to leave her alone—for good. Then she could tell Grandmama to stop pairing them off.
“Yes.” She hissed the word at him and reluctantly took his arm.
Once they were on their way, he said, “You’re angry with me again.”
“I’m not angry with you. Idislikeyou. There’s a difference.”
“You dislike me now?” He sounded surprised.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
He seemed to ponder this for a moment as they took several steps along the path. They passed another couple and nodded at them.
“Not that I can think of, unfortunately. I suppose it’s too much to ask for us to be friends?”
“Andrew—Dartford—what do you want?” It no longer signified. “Never mind. I don’t care what you want. I’d like you to leave me alone. Don’t ask me to promenade. Don’t ask me to dance. Anddon’tshow up in my bedchamber uninvited.” She felt him flinch as she said the last.
“You regret last night.” He didn’t frame it as a question.
“I don’t, but I should regret a repeat occurrence.” She longed to rail at him. With every step, she was reminded of how much she enjoyed being with him, how she was willing to take a chance on a future she didn’t expect to want, how painfully she loved him.
And how he shared none of those sentiments.
He drew her off the path so that they were away from people but not out of sight. He turned to her and looked into her eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked nervous. Or unsettled. Or anxious.
“Lucy, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
She stared at him, unable to summon a thought. Or a word. Or any kind of reaction.
She had to have misheard him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know you said you didn’t wish to marry, but it seems you might have changed your mind.”
He was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. His question had been odd. She tried to discern what was going on behind his dark eyes. She withdrew her hand from his arm. “Is that a proposal?” She wasn’t at all sure that it was.
He hesitated, but only a moment. “Yes.” He clasped her fingers in his. “I want you to be my countess.”
She suffered another moment of shock when words and thought utterly deserted her again. Her breath caught, and then her heart sped as joy spilled through her. Her brain, however, remained detached. She simply didn’t comprehend why he was asking this now. “Why? If it’s because of what happened last night, there’s no need for us to marry.”
“What if there’s a child?”
Now it was her turn to feel anxious. “You took precautions.”
“Nothing’s foolproof.”
She relinquished the sensation of anxiety in favor of annoyance. “You’re asking because of a very small possibility that I’m with child. No, thank you.”
He exhaled. He squeezed her fingers. “I’m asking because I want to. I’ve never met anyone who made me think twice about marriage. Until you.” His eyes darted to the right and left. “If there weren’t so many damn people here, I’d take you in my arms and kiss you until you agreed.”
Heat suffused her, and now her ire gave way to something far hotter—desire. He wanted to marry her. She honestly didn’t know what to say.
“You’re killing me.” His words came out as a near growl. “Are you going to leave me wondering?”
“I should. You deserve that and more.”
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “I do. You could spend the rest of our lives making me suffer.”
She couldn’t help it. She smiled. Until her cheeks hurt. She loved him so much. He hadn’t said he loved her, but she knew he at least liked and admired her. An echo from the past warned her to be careful—that he could hurt her as her father had—but she silenced the dissenting voice. The future she never imagined was in front of her now, and she wanted it.
