Page 101 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“I would never insult you by proposing a carte-blanche. But as for the other . . .” He shrugged. “You caught me off guard. Young ladies don’t usually propose marriage to gentlemen of fairly short acquaintance.”
“Or ever,” she said wryly. “Especially not at a scandalous masked ball, where the atmosphere isn’t generally conducive to clear thinking. I imagine all the scantily clad women would be quite a distraction, for one thing.”
A flush colored his tanned skin. “Perhaps it’s best we leave that unfortunate occasion in the past, where it belongs.”
Lia found it interesting that the men in her life seemed more squeamish when it came to sexual matters than the women. While amusing, it was also annoying because it prevented one from having frank discussions when most needed. “Very well, but I’m still surprised by your offer, sir. Although flattered, naturally,” she added.
“You don’t sound flattered,” he said dryly.
When Dom squirmed, half-awake, she patted his back. “I’ll grant that we get along well when we meet at social engagements, but aside from that, I can’t imagine one good reason why you should wish to make an offer.”
“Can’t you?”
His smile was warm enough to make her flush, although more from discomfort than pleasure. True, he was a very handsome man, with his wheat-colored hair and striking green eyes. And as Gillian had pointed out he was terribly rich and came from a good family. A marriage proposal from Sinclair would be a godsend to most women.
“You’re very kind,” she said, forcing a smile. “But marrying me would not further your position in polite society. The opposite, in fact.”
“I don’t give a hang what society thinks of me. Besides, you’re hardly a cutpurse from the streets. Indeed, you have the support of some very powerful and highborn members of the Ton.”
Lia shifted the now-sleeping baby into a more comfortable position on her shoulder as her tired mind scrambled to come up with an adequate response. She wished she could crawl off to some quiet corner and fall sleep, too. Life seemed to be growing more complicated by the minute and a marriage proposal from Sinclair simply added to the pressure.
When she didn’t answer, he flashed her a truly enticing, seductive smile. “No, I wish to marry you because I like you,” he added. “A lot, as I’m beginning to discover.”
If Lia had a brain in her head, she’d leap to accept his proposal, but it would appear she’d been rendered brainless by the events of the last several weeks—and by Jack.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Miss Kincaid,” he said, “and you’re kind, intelligent, and exceedingly practical. You don’t prattle on about the latest gossip and fashions and you don’t care about the idiocies of the beau monde.” He reached out and fleetingly touched the baby’s head. “You care about normal, everyday things like children. And from what I can tell, you prefer life in the country, as do I.”
While kind, his recitation sounded more like a shopping list than a marriage proposal—dry and rathertoonormal.
“In fact,” he added, “I think we share a similar view of the world, one that should stand us in good stead as a wedded couple.”
“And what is that view?” she cautiously asked.
“We’re both outsiders who forged our own way. We’re not dependent on others for our happiness, nor do we allow them to stand in the way of what we wish to achieve. If we have to go it alone, we do it. All that makes us very well matched, and we would have a good, satisfying life together.”
His assessment was probably true, but Lia was heartily sick and tired of standing on the outside, looking in on someone else’s family and longing to be part of it. Just once, she wanted to belong—truly and completely belong. As nice as he was, she was sure she wouldn’t find that belonging with Sebastian Sinclair. There was something about him that seemed almost detached, albeit in a friendly sort of way, as if strong emotion was more a bother than something to be desired.
“Sir, I truly am flattered by your proposal, but—”
“But the answer is no,” he said wryly. “I expected as much, but I thought I’d give it a try.”
She gaped at him. “You expected me to say no?”
“Your heart belongs to someone else, I believe,” he said gently.
She couldn’t imagine marrying anyone but Jack and she certainly couldn’t marry someone as nice as Sinclair. He deserved more than a gloomy wife who pined for another man.
“I’m sorry,” she said helplessly.
“You needn’t be. I’ve enjoyed my time with you and I hope we can continue to be friends.”
“Of course.”
As much as he liked her, his sanguine expression told her that she hadn’t broken his heart. In fact, his fleeting glance toward the door suggested he was now as eager to end their awkward interview as she was.
Cradling the baby close with one arm, she extended him a hand. “Thank you, sir. Please believe me when I say I truly value your friendship.”
He held on to her hand, his gaze penetrating and sincere. “You don’t have to do it, you know.”
