Page 126 of Pride: The Rogue
“That’swhy I’ve received so much attention from Her Grace’s guests,” she said softly, and Latimer knew she’d ceased to see him and spoke only to herself. “Nowit makes sense.”
“That isn’t true, love,” he said gruffly. “You’re clever and witty and damned riveting. That’s why.” God, how he despised the low opinion she carried of herself. “As it was, they wouldn’t bother throwing their cap at a woman who’d already been declared for.”
Her eyes clouded, Livian blinked like she’d finally recalled she wasn’t alone.
“There is no betrothed, Lachlan,” she murmured.
“I don’t understand,” he said carefully.
Livian avoided his eyes when even the night he’d stormed her chambers, she’d boldly met his stare. “The Duchess of Argyll wasgracious enough to host a gathering with eligible bachelors in the hopes I might find a husband amongst them.”
“Are you bloody joking?” he asked on an incredulous whisper.
Livian lifted her head enough to flash Latimer a sheepish smile. “I wish I were.”
She lifted her shoulders in a far-too-accepting shrug. “I’m not some noble lady like the duchess or some grand—even a good—catch for some gentleman,” she said so matter-of-factly. “As such, it is not as though I can go about making any match.”
Reeling, Latimer stared dumbfounded at the queen before him. Rage briefly blinded him.
How could Livian not know her worth?
“I’ll not tolerate that disparagement of you, from anyone, Livian Lovelace,” he said gruffly. “And least of all from you.”
“Come, Lachlan,” she gently chided. “You know I’m right.”
“I know the entire bloodytoncombined can’t hold a candle to you,” he spat. “Thatis what I know.”
A watery smile formed on her lips. “Oh, Lachlan. I actually do believe you mean that.”
He grunted. “Hell yes, I do.”
“I lied earlier,” she murmured.
Latimer’s brow dipped.
Livian went up on tiptoe and placed her lips next to his ear. “You are, and will always be, the dearest friend.” She placed a fleeting kiss upon his cheek.
Then, without another word, without a backward glance, Livian quit the music room.
Latimer stood there, staring at the door long after she’d gone.
Funny, she’d relented from her earlier claim they were nothing. She’d called Latimer her dearest friend.
And goddamn his miserable, selfish, blackened soul to hell for wanting far more than to be Livian’sdearest friend.
Chapter 20
God, he despised the peerage.
He despised their idea of entertainment.
Their high and mighty attitudes.
Which is perhaps why, in the midst of the Duchess of Argyll’s latest after-dinner-party games, he found himself looking frequently at the door for a sign of the absolutely only person in this bloody residence who felt the exact same way he did.
“You seem distracted, Mr. Latimer,” the duchess whispered.
Lachlan quit his search for the woman whose company he wanted and looked instead to the woman he’d spend the rest of his days with.
