Page 92 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
Harriet nearly collapsed in his arms, “I…I need help.”
“Tell me,” he said, holding her tight and kissing her face soothingly, “please tell me.”
“I will,” Harriet said. “But you need to let my coachman rest here tonight. He cannot go home now; I don’t need them to find me yet.”
After a quick word to the footman who had overheard her, Daniel took her upstairs to a room she had never been in before. Seeing the four-poster bed and the rumpled sheets, Harriet realized that she was in his bedchamber.
When Daniel took her hand—her trembling hand—and wrapped her finger around a glass of wine, she could hardly hold it.
After drinking half the glass, Harriet said, “I need you to promise me, not to kill him.”
His brows lowered, “Kill who?”
She sucked in a breath, “Antony—he tried to seduce me tonight.”
Daniel shot to his feet and paced away from her. His fist clenched at his side. She heard muttered curses coming from him before he turned back to her and grabbed the back to the chair with white-knuckled fists.
“Did he…” his jaw clenched tight, “how far did he get?”
“Not far. I told him to meet me in a guest room away from the family rooms,” Harriet said, then told Daniel all about the incident. “I cannot believe he thinks of my sister as an animal.”
She shuddered. “He misconstrued my words from a few days earlier, Daniel. I told him to amuse himself with something, and while I meant something ordinary, he thought I meant with me. I would never do that. Not to Martha, not to you, and certainly not to myself.”
“I know, Darling,” Daniel replied soothingly. “I know you would never do that.”
Harriet placed the glass on the table, “I don’t know what to do now. I don’t think Ben will believe me, and Antony is charming enough to blind Martha. People already have me as a promiscuous deviant, so who will believe me when I tell them about this? They’ll say it’s another of my scandalous fantasies.”
“We’ll find a way to prove it,” Daniel said. “Before I send the coachman to the Manor on the morrow, I’ll take you to a hotel. The first place Carrington and Ben will suspect that you went is to me. You’ll be safe there.”
She held his hands, “Do you still love me?”
“I will always love you, Harriet, why would you think otherwise?”
Her words were breathy, “Marry me. I don’t care about the scandal over my name anymore. I don’t want to live my life under the lens of society. If I do that, I’ll never be happy, and I want to be blissful with you.”
“I still have the license,” Daniel said. “But you will be going against your family’s wishes—are you sure?”
“There is not a doubt in my mind,” Harriet replied.
Standing, Daniel said, “You must be exhausted; why don’t you change for bed and we’ll rest.”
“We?”
He kissed her slowly, “Yes, we.”
Daniel left the room to let her change. She quickly shed her coat and dress, then donned the nightgown she had shoved into the bag. When Daniel came back, she was dressed but nervous; never before had she laid in bed with a man.
“Don’t worry,” Daniel took her hand. “We’re only going to sleep, Harriet.”
After doing away with his robe, Daniel pulled back the sheet and she slid in. Joining her, Daniel reached out and pulled her halfway atop him. Comfortingly, he stroked her hair until the tense nervousness left her and she cuddled against him peacefully.
“Carrington found that Dawson was behind my embarrassment that night,” Harriet said. “He said Dawson paid a maid to find whatever she could to mortify me.”
Daniel frowned, “What sense would that make?”
“I suppose he thought that if he couldn’t have me, no one else could,” Harriet added.
Kissing her hairline, Daniel reassured her, “He thought wrong. I love you, Sweetheart, and as soon as I arrange it, you’ll be my wife.”
