Page 274 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“Given how I had perched upon this tread with no serious thoughts of leaving, could we sayboth?”

“You were not aiming to escape, without goodbye, were you?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Lucinda leaned forward and took possession of his hand. She tugged and drew him down beside her. “Thanks to my new boots…” She kicked out one foot, the thought crossing her mind that mayhap she had stolen them from Eve and would need to make apologies later. “My brave feet brought me this far, but the cowardish rest of me forestalled further progress. What did she just say to you? If it isn’t overly forward of me—”

“Of course you may ask.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his lips tilting in a rueful grin as he settled next to her on the narrow tread. “Said she would never forgive me if I did not convince you to stay. That if I did anything to bungle things with you, she and Rose would join forces andChapman’swould be out a fragrance supplierandbottle painter.”

He took her hand and placed it upon the top of his bent leg, just above his knee. He began tracing over the back of it, his gaze never leaving hers. “You will stay? Consider making this your home?”

“I am conflicted, I admit. I want to,” she said, almost unwillingly, “but after so short an acquaintance does it not seem the most egregious, asinine, foolhardy—”

He pressed his hand down over hers. “’Tis enough, I assure you. I would prefer to think of it as daring, perhaps, definitely venturesome.”

How did he calm her fears? Settle the uncertainty brimming in her gaze, along with the (did he but hope)yearning?

She flipped her hand until their palms met, curved her fingers between his. “I cannot imagine what would have become of me, had you not opened your doors and rescued me.”

“If I recall, you banged them open and bolted yourself inside, for which I will be forever grateful.” He shifted to better face her, bringing one leg inelegantly up and around so that she—to a degree—nestled within his thighs. “And, Lucinda? It is you who rescued me, who opened my heart, that which had been closed off for years.”

One silent tear tracked down her cheek, despite her soft smile. He lifted their joined hands to brush it away.

Then decided just to jabber everything out before he could stop himself. “’Tis too soon—us; you and me. I know it is. Utterly insane. But I cannot imagine you leaving. Cannot fathomnotseeing you again, not talking with you. Laughing together. I feel so very at ease when I’m with you and yet—

“Yet, my body has been on a razor’s edge since the moment you burst intoChapman’s. I desire you fiercely. Would like for you to remain.Needfor you to remain.” He pulled in a quick breath, leaned down for a long kiss, and then finished—before she could further protest the absurdity of making a decision of such import upon so brief an acquaintance. “Take whatever time you need, ascertain for yourself what manner of man I am day in and day out. You will see I am steady and true.”

“You have already shown to be both.”

“Lucinda, do you imagine you could be happy here? With me?”

“Reow!” His cat bounded over from the direction his siblings had disappeared, hopping up on the nearest step, to rub against their legs.

Above the furious hammering of his heart, he heard Clay give an astonished whistle. “Bri will never believe what his cat just dragged in.”

“Here now, let me have a look,” Thorne demanded. “Rather tattered is it not?”

Eve hushed them both even as she exclaimed, “Is that a valise? Someone’s night bag?”

Barnabas purred louder than bolting horses.

Brier ignored them all. Released Luce’s hand to reach under the feline’s belly and haul the cat into his lap, awkward though it was. Furious chin scratches kept him in place. “And this worthless piece of fangs and fur. We’re a pair, you know. If I cannot tempt you to abandon thoughts of companioning old cantankerous biddies, can he?”

“Merrrow!”

She slowly rubbed her fingers over the purring kitty’s neck, keeping her attention focused downward, on their hands, where they both petted Barnabas, the tips of their fingers crossing paths every few seconds.

One full breath. Then another. A third. His chest lifting, stomach sinking as he waited. Toes stretched and pinched together. He fought his impatience. Sought to give her time.

Seven breaths later—that could have been an hour—she met his eyes again, her attention flitting to his mouth. “Stay? As your assistant?”

He growled.

“As yourmistress, you mean?” The soft utterance, whispered as though they shared a secret, had him giving a hearty laugh.

“No, you precious puzzle-head, as my wife.”

“Oh. Because in truth, I was considering the other.”

He dumped the protesting cat off his lap, brought his legs back together and angled his torso over the stairs until she leaned back upon the treads and he had her caged within his arms. “I accept.”

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