Page 136 of Heartbreaker

If she was going up against the world, he would be with her, dammit.

In the two days it had taken for them to return to London and for him to find his way here, to this church deep in the labyrinth of Lambeth, he’d been consumed with two goals:

Find Adelaide.

Make her his. Forever.

He’d been able to breathe again when he’d turned down the street to find her standing on the steps of the church, tall and beautiful, red hair gleaming in the lantern light. She was found. And she was unharmed. And the world, which had been spinning out of control, had righted itself.

Yes, he was furious with her for leaving him. For putting herself in danger. For forgetting that she belonged to him, dammit, just as he belonged to her—and they were going to have a long and serious conversation about that . . . just as soon as he convinced her to marry him.

Granted, this was not the way he’d planned to marry her, but it would get the job done, and he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her with flowers and wedding brunches and string quartets and new frocks. Whatever she wanted would be hers, and he would make a lifetime of giving it to her.

Why had he ever doubted that they could have it all—the time together, the children, the future... the love? Whatever it was that was left between them, they’d sort it out, just as soon as he could pack her into a carriage and take her home and get on with the business of loving her, hang Alfie Trumbull’s wild plans for the future.

Whatever they were, Henry and Adelaide would face them. And fight them. And triumph.

Together.

After all, Henry came with a dukedom, and Adelaide came with a battalion of women warriors. Alfie wouldn’t stand a chance once they were joined.

And so, standing on the sooty steps of St. Stephen’s Chapel at dusk on that particular Thursday evening, after two days of racing across Britain, furious that the woman he loved would walk herself directly into danger rather than letting him stand beside her... things were looking up.

Right up until she refused him. “No.”

He turned to look at her. To explain. To coax. “Adelaide.”

It was as though he was not present. She did not look away from her father as she delivered her blow. “I’m not marrying him. You’ll have to choose something else. I won’t do it.”

“Why in hell not?” Henry asked. Did she not see what they might have? What this could be?

“You ain’t got a choice, gel,” Alfie replied. “That’s the price.”

“Let there be another one, then. How much are they paying you to kidnap the girl? How much is the price on her head? On his brother’s? On Clayborn’s? I’ve wealthy friends now, Alfie, and whatever they will pay you, I am able to pay you more.”

“I’ll pay my own damn debts, thank you—” Henry bit out, feeling like the whole thing was spinning out of his control.

“Fine,” she said, still not looking at him, but at least acknowledging his presence. “The duke will pay his own way. And I will double whatever it is. Is that enough?”

“Now that’s a lot of money, girl. You’d be puttin’ yourself deep in debt to pay it.”

It would be exorbitant. Alfred Trumbull was nothing if not a shrewd businessman, and he knew the price of silence. Knew, too, that such a price increased with danger, and crime, and a threat to a family and a future. Whatever Havistock was offering, it would be an enormous amount. And with no guarantee for Adelaide’s future.

But if she married him, Henry would guarantee her future. Immediately. Forever.

Hell, even if she didn’t marry him, he would guarantee it. But given the choice between spending his life with the woman he loved and spending his life alone, stinging from her rejection—it was no choice at all.

“Adelaide, we’re marrying,” he said, the words like steel.

“No, we’re not.” She rounded on him. “We’re going in there and we’re getting your brother and his bride out of theholemy father has put them in, and you are taking them far away from here.”

“And you,” he said, suddenly furious. “Dammit, Adelaide, some day you will stop leaving yourself out of the equation. I’m takingyouaway from here, too.”

She shook her head. “Why won’t you see?”

Henry took a deep breath. “I do see, love. I see you.”

See me. Trust me.

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