Page 82 of The Marquess Wins a Wife
“We’re going for a walk,” Jo said. Cannily, she added, “But Lizzie won’t buy me any toffee candies. Will you buy some for me?”
“Of course I—” He paused midsentence, a wince flickering over his features at whatever it was he must have beheld upon Lizzie’s face. “Well,” he said at last, with a pat upon Jo’s back, “I think it’s best we let your sister decide.”
Lizzie took a breath, shaking herself free of her stupor. “That is—”
“Not necessary,” Luke supplied, his voice suddenly muted. “I know, Lizzie. I wish—” His gaze flicked back to Jo, who was staring up at him, lower lip thrust out in a childish pout. A long moment drew out in which he vacillated, no doubt considering if whatever he had meant to say was fit for young ears. Lizzie found herself mildly relieved when at last he asked only, “You’re going to the park?”
“Yes,” Lizzie said, and willed herself to move forward once more, to steady her voice. “Come, Jo. We must leave his lordship to his business.”
“As it happens, I haven’t got any business.” He glanced up, eyed the sky. “I’ll accompany you to the park. I’ve got my carriage waiting in the event the weather turns.”
“That’s—”
“So help me God, Lizzie, if you saynot necessaryjustonemore time.” The guttural growl surprised her, startled her into a step back. “I’ve already decided,” he said. “You’re not traipsing about London alone and unaccompanied. Never again. You’ve already given me apoplexy once.” His face had gone a bit grey, as if the mere memory troubled him.
The flare of hurt and anger surprised her. She had thought herself beyond it—but no, it was still there, not too very deep down. “I did only what you commanded, my lord. I removed myself from your sight. As you have instructed, I will leave you well enough alone in future. I would be glad of the same courtesy.”
Luke flinched as if the words had been barbs, which Lizzie thought a tad melodramatic.
“But he didn’tmeanit,” Jo said, and her hand curled into the fabric of his coat. “You didn’t, did you, Luke?”
“I didn’t mean it,” he assured her, his hand resting atop her head. “But sometimes, Jo, that doesn’t matter.” A sigh whistled from his lips. “Lizzie is angry with me,” he said. “And she has got every right to be.”
Lizzie swallowed back a mouthful of sharp words, and they tore at her throat on the way down. Somehow, her hands had curled into fists at her sides, every bit of her stiff and anxious. As if she had grown a thick layer of thorns to protect herself against whatever new bit of cruelty he had concocted for her.
Luke caught Jo’s hand up in his, and turned toward her. “Lead the way,” he said, and he turned just briefly to give a gesture of his hand to the coachman waiting just down the street.
“You arenotaccompanying us,” Lizzie said, bristling.
“I don’t see how you intend to stop me,” he said. “Mrs. Knight’s influence does not extend to the street. Or to the park.” His voice dropped an octave, softening. “I let you go once. I don’t intend to do it again.”
She hated that soft voice, the implication that she required gentle handling. That he intended tomanageher. As if she were a child to be placated. “Do as you will,” she said, in a bitter little hiss. “Come along, Jo. We are going.”
She made it perhaps three steps before he cleared his throat, a subtle request for her attention, and she rounded on him once more, this time to upbraid him for his temerity.
“I only wanted to say,” he said, in that same soft, patient voice, “that the park isthisway.” He tilted his head in the opposite direction in which she had been headed, and a half-hearted smile tinged with regret lay tucked there within the smooth surface of his cheek.
∞∞∞
It was going to rain sooner rather than later. The sky had a threatening look about it, the sort that every Londoner knew well enough meant that a deluge was imminent. But that was fine; Luke knew he could use that to his advantage.
Lizzie hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella with her. Or perhaps she had not bothered to secure one in her hasty flight from their home a few nights past. She hadn’t thought to bring a hat with her, either, and her dark hair had been hastily wound up and pinned in place, a few bold, errant locks daring to slip free and tangle with the breeze.
She seemed content enough to ignore his presence, though it was clear enough that she was troubled by it. And so she stood, stiffly, tension evident in the clench of her jaw, as she watched Joanna wheel about the grass. Every muscle in her body exuded an air of defensiveness, of self-preservation, giving the sense that any effort he might make would only be rebuffed.
Hehad forced that silence there between them. And now she would not risk breaching it. It seemed to form an impenetrable wall around her, insulating her against any overtures. Much as he had once repelled her own. Even standing too closely felt like an invasion of that invisible, unassailable barricade around her, and so he stood some feet away, feeling awkward in his own skin.
“Lizzie, please talk with me.” The words slipped out, raw and aching. “Please give me a chance to explain. To apologize properly.”
Her throat worked, barely visible above the high neckline of her pelisse. “That is not—”
“Itisnecessary.” Frustration tore at his composure, and he pressed his lips together, struggling to find it once more.
Her hands fisted in her skirts. “You need not concern yourself with us any longer. In fact, I wish you would not.” The clean, clipped words scraped the frayed edges of his nerves. “I can serve my purpose just as well in Hatfield.”
Her purpose? Shame washed over him anew.Hell. He hadtoldher that. That his only use for her was a woman to wear his title to spare him the machinations of other women who might seek to wrest it from him. And there had even been a time where he had convinced himself thatshewas getting the better end of their deal—that she would have a title, and a fine house, and all those luxuries which she had previously been denied.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “What I said to you that night—I didn’t mean it. Any of it. It was all of fifteen minutes before I went off to find you, to apologize. To beg your forgiveness. But you had already gone.”
