Page 52 of Dark Intentions

Allison bit the words back because she knew they’d make no impact. All her mother cared about was herself. Some women were obviously not meant to be mothers, and her mother was one of them. Did Allison herself have the same fatal flaw?

Good heavens, she hoped not!

Pushing to her feet, Allison balled her fists at her side to keep from showing how much they trembled. Was this truly the last time she’d see her mother? And did she even really care? “I think we’re finished here,” she said quietly. “A real mother would have asked me if I was all right, if I loved him, if I needed anything to help me get through this. Perhaps I was foolhardy, but I am not... any of those horrible things you said.”

Her mother stood as well, her entire body vibrating with rage. “I am sorry I ever gave birth to you!”

Allison’s eyes welled with tears, but she wouldn’t shed them. She tried to tell herself she didn’t need this woman’s love as her mother turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Turning, Allison stumbled toward the window, staring blindly down at the street as her mother climbed into her carriage and drove away.

“I wish you’d never been born.”

She knew that her mother had said similar things to her brothers, and they all seemed to be doing perfectly fine. Of course, they all had someone to love, and Allison was suddenly afraid that she’d be alone for the rest of her life. She’d spent so much time trying to win her independence, she wondered what it was she’d actually won.

Her thoughts were such a mess that when her gaze fell upon Quinn mounting the steps to Jocelyn’s townhouse, she couldn’t even process what she was seeing. But then she let out a glad cry of surprise and raced out of the room, beating him to the door and letting him in before anyone else could even know he was there.

Holding her fingers to her lips, she took him by the hand and led him back to the drawing room, shutting and locking the door behind her. She turned back to him, about to launch herself into his arms, when she noticed that he looked absolutely devastated.

“What happened?” she asked, all of her other rioting emotions drowned out by her sudden concern. “You look so sad.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Just a really bad night.”

“A really bad night?” She came nearer, reaching up on tiptoes to press her lips gently to his cheek. “Sometimes, I forget how hard your job is.”

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her toward him, hugging her tightly. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. I will, but I don’t want to put all of that on you today.”

“I’m certain you did the best you could,” she murmured, feeling his anger and frustration as though it was her own. She sensed he was far too hard on himself.

“I was working all night,” he told her, squeezing her even tighter. “I wanted to come see you first thing this morning, so we could discuss what happened the night I took you home, but my responsibilities prevented it. I hope you didn’t think I was ignoring your note.”

She sighed and burrowed her face against his chest, inhaling deeply of bay rum. She had worried, and now she understood how foolish that had been. He wasn’t the sort of man who’d just walk away without a word. “I’m just glad you’re here now,” she whispered. “I just had a terrible row with my mother, and I needed you.”

He stepped back and pulled her to the sofa. She loved that he was so physically demonstrative, which was the opposite of everything she’d known in her life so far. “Tell me about it, princess.”

The nickname made a smile curve her lips for the first time that day.

“She came to tell me what a trollop I am and how I’ve ruined her life completely with my whorish ways,” she said, her flippant tone trying to diminish how hurtful it had all been.

Quinn wasn’t fooled. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly. “I’m sorry for what happened the other night. I feel entirely to blame for not paying closer attention to the hack driver’s route. But you are neither a trollop nor a whore, and I won’t allow anyone to say such things to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault at all,” she insisted, looking up at him, aghast. “It was mine for having behaved so recklessly.”

He laughed tightly, and she could feel the tension coiling through him. “Well, I suppose it really doesn’t matter whose fault it was. We got caught, and now we have to figure out what to do about it.”

“I don’t expect you to do anything,” she said, her heart breaking for what she’d done to them. “Everything that happened rests entirely on my shoulders. I came to you repeatedly even though I knew the risks. I’ll understand if you want to walk away from all of this and never look back.”

Cupping her cheek tenderly, he stared deep into her eyes. “Is that what you want, Allison? I know you never wanted to marry anyone, let alone someone like me.”

She thought of the loneliness she’d felt last night and how all her troubles had felt lighter the moment he’d walked into the room. To her surprise, she found that she no longer hated the idea of marriage as much as she once had. Not if it was Quinn. She couldn’t imagine him trying to control either her or her money.

However, the last thing she wanted was for him to marry her out of some sort of duty or because he felt threatened by her powerful brother. And she didn’t want to feel forced to do so out of shame or just to salvage the reputation she truly didn’t even care about.

“What did Lucien say when you went and saw him?” she asked, deflecting his question for now.

Quinn sighed and shook his head. “I convinced him that the decision about whether we marry should be yours and mine, not his and mine.”

“You did?” she asked, impressed. “That means so much to me, Quinn. I think one of my greatest misgivings about marriage has always been all the people telling me that I have to do it, that my life has no other purpose other than to be financially tied to some man and bear his heirs. I’ve always wanted so much more.”

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