Page 84 of The Lady Was Lying
“I admit it is not ideal, but Charles is rather adept at dealing with dramatic women, and he suggested that it might make sense for them to approach her before they return to the country. Their presence in your townhouse won’t increase suspicion.” He gestured between Belinda and James. “Once your interest in Belinda becomes public knowledge, it’ll make even more sense for them to drop in before she leaves.”
His interest in Belinda.
Bollocks.
All the light. All the joy. All the happiness he’d experienced since kidnapping her flickered. Would he have to give her up? Let her go back to London without him? Was his name too soiled to be desirable?
It wouldn’t be fair to drag her into scandal. Even if she didn’t have a particular interest in society, would she want to be the wife of a man whom everyone knew wasn’t supposed to be the Duke of Avondale?
“Don’t you dare doubt my loyalty,” she warned, squeezing his hand as if she could read his mind.
“Belinda,” he whispered.
“James,” she demanded. “Look at me.”
With a steady breath, he raised his gaze and was struck by her steadiness.
“Ask me,” she ordered.
“What?” He blinked.
“Ask me.”
He blinked again. “Ask you?”
“I will say yes if you ask me. I’m not scared anymore.” Her grip on his hand tightened, and she moved so she could grasp his other hand too. “I’ve been lying to myself for years. Telling myself that I was fine being alone because it hurt too much to admit that I couldn’t connect with anyone. My life was a never-ending cycle of wishing that I were different. More normal. Less mercurial.” She licked her lips. “I do not wish that when I am with you.”
He vaguely heard a door opening and then closing behind her brothers as she continued, “I want to share my life with you. I don’t care what society thinks of me. Or what society thinks of you. The only thing that matters to me is that we are together.”
His mouth opened. No sound came out.
“Ask me,” she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her lips briefly against his.
He blinked again, but this time it was to dislodge the tears that were welling in his eyes. It didn’t make sense that a potential scandal was the catalyst for obliterating her fear.
Or maybe it did.
She wasn’t the sort of woman who would allow him to suffer alone.
“You. Are. Spectacular.” He kissed her gently. “I’ll probably feel guilty about dragging you into this scandal for the rest of our lives, but the thought of living without you is too depressing to bear. When I decided to kidnap you, I promised myself I’d do everything in my power to convince you that we could be happy together. I didn’t expect it to be so easy. Belinda, will you do me the tremendous honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Take me to Scotland directly. There’s no reason for us to stop at your estate first and accidentally end up in a village across the border. Let’s make our future a deliberate choice rather than an act of happenstance.”
The next hour passed in a haze of discussion and activity.
Belinda hadn’t been able to convince her brothers to let her continue on to her wedding without a chaperone. She’d given in to their refusal more quickly than James had expected, and he assumed she secretly wanted Edward and Violet at their wedding. Family was important to her, so it wasn’t outlandish to think she might appreciate the comfort of their presence.
When Violet arrived at the inn, they hastily explained their plans and then prepared to leave. Greydon was returning to London forthwith, while the rest of them traveled across the border before settling at Bramblewood.
“I feel awful about leaving my scandal in your lap,” James confessed to Greydon quietly. Belinda had already climbed into the carriage with Violet, and all that was left was for James to mount his horse and join Edward in front of the carriage.
Greydon waved his apology away. “Don’t concern yourself about it. It isn’t really even your scandal. You aren’t responsible for your parents’ actions any more than I am for mine.”
“Your parents didn’t steal a dukedom.”
“Neither did yours. You said yourself that the duke was your father. No one can prove otherwise, and since you’re gone, no one will bother investigating. By the time you return to London, the rumors will have faded. People won’t forget, and they will linger, but the sting will fade as more time passes. I believe you’re making the right choice to continue on your way now, and I’ll do my best to limit the fallout, but do not think, even for a moment, that you need to remain at your estate forever. The threat of scandal always seems worse than the reality.”
“Thank you,” James replied, grateful beyond measure. “I appreciate your support, and I appreciate your quick thinking in getting my mother out of London.”
