Page 66 of Let Me Be Your Hero
She peered at her husband. His expression seemed almost… jovial.
That didn’t make any sense. She’d been shopping for more than two hours! Surely, he was bored to tears. “I’m terriblysorry,” she said, climbing down from the stepladder she had been using.
“Sorry?” Archibald’s brow creased. “Why are you sorry?”
“I didn’t realize how long I’d been browsing. I’m sure you must be finding this dreadfully dull.”
“Not at all,” Archibald said gallantly. At her skeptical look, he added, “No, really. You looked so happy.” He rubbed the back of his head, staring at the floorboards. “I like seeing you happy.”
He stood there holding a stack of books, ears turning pink, and Izzie marveled at the fact that she had only spoken to this man for the first time two weeks ago.
And here she was, falling in love with him.
Because she was certain that the champagne-bubble sensation arising in the general vicinity of her heart was love, not dyspepsia. And really, how could she resist this man? He kissed her like the world was about to end, he threw himself at knife-wielding villains to save her, and then he declared that her florid Gothic novel was the most marvelous thing he’d ever read.
He was building her dream library for her. He even followed her around the bookstore for hours on end, smiling softly and carrying her books!
Really, what chance did a girl stand?
“Well,” Izzie said, blinking back the tears that were suddenly pricking in her eyes, “I’m sure the salesclerks are ready to head home to their supper. Shall we do the same?”
“As you like.” Archibald shifted the stack of books to one arm so he could offer her his other one.
Downstairs, Izzie felt bashful as she noted just how many crates it had taken to hold all the books she had selected. Archibald was speaking in hushed whispers to the store manager. Izzie couldn’t make out all that they said, but she did catch the words, “—hundred pounds.”
“Oh, dear,” she said as Archibald ushered her out to the waiting carriage. “How much did all of this cost?”
He handed her up. Once they were alone inside, he answered, “Less than a tenth of the sum my father has spent commissioning statues of himself as Alexander the Great if it makes you feel better.”
That startled a giggle out of her. She had seen his father’s new statue, after all.
Still… “You don’t think I spent too much?”
“Izzie.” He squeezed her hand. “I was prepared to give you ten thousand pounds a year in pin money. I truly don’t want you to worry about this. What I want is for you to be happy”—he looked down, ears reddening, and added softly—“with me.”
Izzie crawled into his lap and looped her arms around his neck. “I amveryhappy with you.” She pressed her lips to his.
When she pulled back, he was looking down. “Because I’m so—”
“Thoughtful,” she supplied as he uttered the word “rich.”
Archibald looked up, startled. “Thoughtful?”
She trailed kisses across his jawline toward his lips. “Thoughtful. Kind. Supportive.”
He still looked befuddled. “Me? Thoughtful? Real—”
Her lips claimed his then, and there was no more conversation for some time.
The carriage ride was not long enough for them to finish what they started.
No matter. Archibald carried her up the stairs again, and they made good use of the hulking canopied bed.
Afterward, as she drifted off to sleep, Izzie smiled, glad that the danger had finally passed and her life could return to normal.
But she was wrong.
CHAPTER 31
