Page 91 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
“Yes,” Luke admitted. “I couldn’t leave without telling her. Once we are married, we will return for her, of course, but I couldn’t let her think that I had abandoned her in the meantime.”
Alison felt a sudden knot of fear tighten in her throat. “And you’re sure she won’t tell?”
“I am certain,” Luke said. He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. “I am as certain about that as I am about wanting to marry you. You can trust Jenny, I promise.”
“She won’t turn against you, simply to regain her position in my father’s house?”
Luke guffawed but Alison could not see what was funny.
“She can be trusted, Alison. If you trust me, then trust in that.”
“All right,” she said, but she still felt the prickle of doubt. She knew Jenny did not approve of their relationship, and that could be enough to make her go behind Luke’s back. But Luke was right—she had to trust in him and his decisions.
“I couldn’t leave without letting her know,” he continued. “I’m all she’s got left, and I couldn’t see her hurt. She understands.”
“She does?”
“Yes. She says I’ve got to follow my heart, but she did make me promise to return for her.”
“A sensible woman, then,” Alison said, finally allowing herself a smile.
“And soon to be your sister-in-law,” Luke said, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Goodness,” Alison replied, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “I really hadn’t thought of that.”
They lapsed into silence for a while, comfortable with each other. They sat on the same bench, their arms touching and their fingers entwined. Alison felt entirely comfortable with Luke, and certain that the future would be bright. He induced in her such a feeling of security that she had never felt before, not even under the protection of her wealthy, powerful father.
She glanced at him occasionally, taking in his face, his smile, his shining eyes. For Alison, he represented so much. Love and freedom and passion and more. With him by her side, she knew, without a doubt, that she was making the right choice.
“I love you,” she said, breaking the silence as she gazed at him. “I probably say that too often, but it’s true.”
“It’s impossible to say it too often,” he said, turning to return her gaze. “I will never tire of hearing it.”
“Luke, I—”
But Alison didn’t get to finish her sentence, for they began to tumble through the air. Alison grasped out, hoping to grab onto anything, onto him, something to stabilize herself, but there was nothing solid.
He was tumbling too, the baying of the horses and the screeching of the wheels loud and overwhelming. She didn’t know what was happening, but panic and bile rose in her throat. Her head hit something—the ceiling?—then her leg, her arm. She was buffeted from one surface to another and she could feel a trickle of warm blood running down her face.
“Alison!”
Luke’s scream penetrated the cacophony of the crash, but she couldn’t see him, couldn’t reach him. All she could think of was their safety, and their plan.
“Luke!” she screamed back, but the wind and the air stole the word from her as she flew from the carriage and landed heavily on the mud floor, where she curled into a ball, broken and hurt and weeping.
