Chapter Ten
The next afternoon, Selena’s mind was still spinning at Lord Lockhaven’s—Edward’s—parting words. Everything she had ever been taught said that she should have been shocked. Offended. Horrified at his forwardness, and his insult to her delicate sensibilities.
Her past experiences had taught her she should run, far and fast, for her sake and his own.
She fell in love too easily. Well, infatuated, at the very least. In love with the possibility of what the men in her life presented.
And every man she had married had died. Every last one.
Her curse was unrelenting. And there was precious little left of her heart with which to gamble.
But apparently she hadn’t yet learned her lesson—and her sensibilities weren’t all that delicate—because she wanted nothing more than to embrace this man with both arms and explore whatever this connection was between them. So she’d said yes. Invited him to come.
And now she sat in Jane’s parlor, her palms sweating so much she could scarce hold her teacup.
She wanted to see him, yes. But before anything went any further, she needed to make sure he understood that this was merely…
She let out a long sigh. She didn’t know what this was.
Or what she wanted it to be. A discreet liaison perhaps?
A prospect which filled her with both trepidation and excitement.
To take her pleasure as men often did would be intriguing.
Frankly, it was a prospect that didn’t seem possible.
Certainly not practical. While she had no doubt it would be enjoyable, it could have long-reaching and possibly catastrophic consequences.
All it would take was one marriage proposal—which she couldn’t seem to resist—and husband number five was as good as dead. Her curse had never yet failed.
And yet she couldn’t help but long for just such an association. If it were even possible.
She did, at least, know what couldn’t be between them.
It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t lead to marriage or even courtship.
Not that he’d offered that. But if she were anyone else, his intense interest, his insistence on calling, not to mention that kiss in the corridor (even if it had been her fault)—any one of those things was a near guarantee of a proposal.
Yet that was the last thing she wanted. And if his reputation was anything to go on, he would be of much the same mind.
Then again, according to everything she’d heard from Jane, who had been gossiping with Lord Goodwin, Lord Lockhaven was behaving in a manner heretofore unseen by his friends and family. They were as stymied as she.
Perhaps they had all gone mad. Perhaps they—
The door opened, and she shot to her feet.
Jane reached out with a steady hand and quiet chuckle and took her teacup from her, setting it down on the small table beside the sofa.
And then he entered, his eyes going immediately to hers as the footman announced him.
He bowed. She curtsied, wincing slightly at the sight of the bruise blossoming across his cheek.
Jane mumbled something that neither of them paid any attention to.
Mr. Haddon, who Selena had completely forgotten was still in the room, said something by way of greeting that Lord Lockhaven nodded absently at.
And still they stared at each other.
Finally, he spoke, breaking the spell. “Mrs. MacLaren, I hope you will not find me too forward, but I had hoped you would perhaps show me the library? My mother tells me Mr. and Mrs. Haddon keep quite an extensive collection,” he said, with a smile at Jane, “and I do so love a good library.”
“That is very kind of her. We would be honored if you would like a tour. I’m sure Mrs. MacLaren would be very happy to show you about,” Jane answered for her.
Not that Selena would have answered any differently.
“Selena, dear, please show his lordship my collection of Cavalier poets. It is a particular favorite of mine. They are so beautifully bound, and the content of course is superb.”
And she shooed them out the door before either could get another word in edgewise. Though that was just as Selena wished it. Her nerves were so raw her body nearly vibrated with tension. But something about his presence calmed her as well. The sheer contradiction of it all made her head spin.
Lord Lockhaven, bless him, didn’t speak right away.
He followed her down the hall and glanced around appreciatively as they entered the library.
They wandered through the large room in total silence.
Long enough that some of the tension in her shoulders began to ease.
Her nerves began to calm. The library wasn’t so large as some she had seen.
Certainly not as large as Lord Lockhaven’s she’d wager.
Which meant he’d probably asked for a tour just so they could be alone.
Away from any eyes that might have been watching.
Finally, she took a long, deep breath and released it slowly.
Only then did he smile at her in that way he had that sent the butterflies in her stomach rioting. Though he kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back as they walked, she could still feel the warmth of him as if he were enveloping her.
“Mrs. Haddon’s favorite collection is this way,” she said, leading him up a corkscrew staircase to the upper gallery.
They reached the shelf holding the Cavalier poets—a shelf located toward the back corner near a recessed alcove with a reading bench. Selena shook her head. Mrs. Haddon took meddling to an extreme that was frankly impressive.
Lord Lockhaven nodded appreciatively as he glanced over the books. But they apparently weren’t what was on his mind.
“I am glad you agreed to see me today,” he said.
Selena bit her lip, her pulse racing though she was still somewhat bemused that he was there in front of her. “I feel I should apologize again for my behavior at—”
“No.” He stopped and turned fully to her, his eyes boring into hers. “No apologies are necessary.”
“Does…” She took advantage of their lack of audience and raised her hand to lightly touch his cheek. She wanted to soothe the pain she’d caused. And, frankly, she just wanted to touch him. “Does it hurt?”
He smiled, the movement causing his face to push into her palm. But instead of moving away, she could have sworn he leaned into her touch slightly. “Not as much as it looks like it should, I assure you.”
Guilt filled her nevertheless, and her brow creased in a frown.
His thumb brushed across her forehead, smoothing the frown away. “I swear to you, I feel no discomfort.”
She cocked an eyebrow, not bothering to hide her skepticism, and he chuckled.
“Very well, perhaps a slight discomfort. More damage was done to my ego, I assure you. Lord Goodwin has been insufferable.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his forlorn expression, even as a light shiver ran up her spine at his sweet touch. She wanted to curl against him like a cat, rubbing her face into his chest while he stroked her hair.
That mental image startled her so much she stepped back, putting a few inches between them. But before she could move too far, he reached out and gently seized her hand.
She froze, her entire being focused on his hand encapsulating hers.
“Don’t go,” he said, his voice suddenly low, its quietness lending an intensity to the words that took her breath away.
Before she could foment another thought, he pulled her into the alcove, captured her face between his hands, and kissed her.
If their first brief kiss had shaken her, this one was a veritable earthquake, rocking her very foundations.
Everything she’d previously thought, desired, dreamed, feared—It all came crashing down.
She’d thought she knew what to expect. But that brief kiss before had barely been a taste, a hint, of what lay in store.
His lips moved over hers, sending her heart thundering. She leaned into him, seeking more, her mind a cacophony of emotion and confusion and sheer need that overrode everything else. Her entire world narrowed down to that moment. His touch. Him.
The rest of the world be damned.
She had been alone so long. And she was tired. Tired of the sadness. The loneliness. The longing for something she might never get. Well, here it was. A moment of joy. Of passion. For just this moment, at least, she was going to revel in it. Even if she couldn’t let it ever go past this moment.
They finally broke apart, gasping for air. He kept her cheek cupped in his hand and rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing against her skin ever so gently. Their breath mingled as she leaned into him.
“Selena,” he whispered, sending her heart soaring. “Marry me.”
Her breath stopped altogether.
She pulled back, her eyes searching his. He hadn’t just… He didn’t just… “What?” she asked, the sound more a gasp than a word.
He looked startled himself for a moment, eyes wide and mouth open. As if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just said. But then he blinked and looked at her with renewed intensity, taking her face in both hands. “Marry me. We could be so good together. You enjoy my company, do you not?”
She frowned. “Yes, but—”
“You do not abhor my touch,” he said, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips.
“No,” she murmured, grasping his wrists as his hands still cradled her face, her entire body crying out for him to continue his exploration.
He broke away with a groan, then grinned. “You find me amusing, handsome, reasonably intelligent.” His crooked half-smile sent her heart spinning and would normally have pulled an answering smile from her lips.
But she was still too stunned to do ought but whisper again, “Yes.”
“Then marry me.” He kissed her again. “Say yes,” he whispered against her lips.
For one brief, glorious moment, she let herself sink into him. Luxuriate in his touch. Consider the madness he was suggesting, all the possibilities it entailed.
Good…very, very good.
And bad.
She pulled back.
“No.”