Page 63 of The Lady Was Lying
“We are well acquainted,” he said slowly.
“Maybe.” Hope rose. “Maybe not.” Hope crumbled.
But it didn’t die.
Because he wasn’t impatient. At least not about this. He would wait until she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her. Until he mattered to her as much as she was coming to matter to him. “Perhaps when you feel like we know each other well enough, you’ll want to test your mother’s theory.”
“How will I know that I know you well enough?”
It was a good question. One he didn’t have a clear answer for.
“You’ll know,” he said, as confidently as he could manage.
“But how?” She practically growled.
Forcing himself to consider the question more thoroughly, he tried to put into words why he wanted to kiss her now when he hadn’t been willing to before. “Because you will want to and the want you feel will override the fear.”
“I already want it. I’ve imagined it. Countless times.” There was anguish in her voice.
“Countless times,” he repeated, even more confused. It dawned on him suddenly that, in his relief, he had failed to ask her a very important question. “What are you scared of?”
“If I don’t like kissing you, that’ll be the end. My last chance. There will be no reason for me to continue trying, and”—she bit her lip—“I’ll have to let you go.”
“Let me go,” he repeated. “I’m afraid I’m still not following.”
“I like you,” she practically shouted. “And it’s scary.”
Lady Belinda Grey liked him.
His heart swelled. “Why would you let me go if you like me?”
“Because I’m scared,” she repeated, as if he were daft.
“And?” He didn’t know how to take away her fear.
“You aren’t a feckless lord who already has a wife. Nor are you a man desperate for my dowry. You are a principled man in search of a partner. One who adheres to his sense of honor without hesitation.”
“Is that a deterrent?” Lord, she confused him.
“You are kind to my family,” she continued. “And worst of all, you don’t seem discouraged by my personality.”
There was nothing he could do to stop himself from smiling at the last one. He was unequivocally happy that she saw him so clearly.
If only he could do the same with her.
“Stop smiling,” she demanded.
“It’s impossible. I can’t do it. You like me.”
“Liking you makes it worse,” she snapped. “When my mother suggested I needed to know a man before I kissed him, it was like a thunderclap. My world was silent, and then it was loud. It made so much sense, but if I test her theory and it turns out she’s wrong, I’ll have nothing left. No hope. Nothing.” Blinking rapidly, like she was trying to keep more tears from appearing, she stepped toward him. “I thought I’d accepted my spinster status, but now I wonder if I’ve been lying to myself all along. What if the future I’ve spent years planning for isn’t the one I’m meant to have?”
“Then you’ll adjust. Make new plans,” he responded, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.
The pressure she seemed to be placing on a single kiss was rather extreme. How could he alleviate it?
“What if I ask your brother permission to court you? We’ll make it official. Proper, even. I’ll escort you around town. Give you the time you need to see if you can feel comfortable enough with me to take the chance.”
“No. I don’t want to be courted.” She stomped her foot. “We’re past that. Maybe you were right. Maybe we should kiss. Get it out of the way. Then we will know. One way or the other.”
