Page 120 of Heartbreaker

A vision flashed, a row of dark-haired, blue-eyed moppets, each one so loved. So cared for, with their father the duke watching over them. Their father, and their mother, who would be his match in all things. Pretty and perfect and pristine—born graceful and sweet-tempered. Adelaide’s opposite.

“Where was your gang?” he asked, unaware of the riot of thoughts in her head.

She swallowed around the knot in her throat. Focused on the story. “Alfie was outside when I was released.”

“Your father came when you were released? Not before?”

“What could he have done?”

“I would have torn the place down, brick by brick, until they released you.”

She smiled. “And they might have let you, Duke.”

Perhaps he did not deserve the gentle reminder of his position, but Adelaide gave it anyway, to remind him of how distant they were from each other. To remind herself, she finished the story. “Alfie was there to give out my second punishment.” He froze, but she kept going. “Punishment for getting caught.”

His fingers found the long scar on her back. Settled. “This?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Thatwas the second time I was caught,” she said. “I was greedy. A fur muff. I wanted it for my father’s consort—the only one who was ever nice to me—for Christmas. He’d left her for a new girl, and she was heartbroken. I thought a muff would make her happy.”

His chest tightened. “And?”

She smiled. “Tough to hide a woman’s fur in a girl’s skirts.” She paused. “Fifteen lashes for the second infraction, and two months inside.”

“God, Adelaide . . . Prison is no place for a child.”

“Prison is no place for most of the people sent there,” she replied. And she’d been in the section of the prison that was reserved for children. “After my second trip, I vowed never to return.” She gave him a little smile. “I also vowed that I’d come for Mayfair eventually—the big fish I was determined to catch.”

His brows rose. “And look at you now.”

“Stealing kisses and secrets from dukes,” she whispered, even as he was the one who stole the kiss that followed the words.

“And hearts,” he added on a low rumble when he released her.

“Don’t give me your heart,” she urged him, softly. “I am not virtuous enough to return it.”

He had to understand. She had to make him understand. If they could agree that being together would make more trouble than happiness, she could put this beautiful idyll behind her and let the rest of her life begin. He would become a dull ache—the kind that came in a long-broken bone when the weather changed. A distant memory from when she had fallen stupidly in love with a man she could not keep.

She forced herself to add, “So there it is; the worst of it.”

Now you know why you shouldn’t love me. Why there is no forever for us.

He nodded gravely for a moment and then said, “Now tell me the best of it.”

Her brow furrowed. “The... best?”

“Tell me your happiest memory.”

Had anyone ever asked her that? Worse, why was it so difficult to summon an answer? She thought for a long moment before settling on, “I do not dislike the memory of this morning.” Her name on his tongue. His touch on her skin. Her body on his.

He smiled and kissed her temple. “Neither do I. But tell me one from before we knew each other.”

“No,” she said softly, not wanting to give up another piece of herself. “You don’t understand. You can’t know more of me.”

“Why not? What if I wished to know all of you?”

She shook her head. “You can’t. We... can’t. Don’t you see?” She felt frantic, as though she’d lost her way in a dark alley. Or worse, in the bright light of Mayfair. “Ican’t.”

He was silent for a long moment, considering the words.Please, Henry, she begged silently.Please understand. I must hold back enough of myself to be able to stand tall when you leave.

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