Chapter 17

June 1819

I t was official. Every single one of Lucy's friends seemed intent on seeing a match made between her and Holbrook. Over the next few weeks, they were paired up at a surprising number of private dinner parties. And if Lucy visited Hatchard's bookshop with Lady Hargrove, she discovered that Holbrook was already there with her friend's husband.

The second time it happened, she realized it wasn't a coincidence. For a moment she'd suspected Holbrook had engineered the meeting, but the exasperated huff he'd aimed at Lord Hargrove, followed by the earl's grin, told her he'd been just as surprised.

During larger social events, Holbrook took care to remain close by. They weren't betrothed, so it would cause a stir if he remained by her side the entire evening, but it was clear that was what he wanted.

And heaven help her, so did she.

If she had any lingering doubts about Holbrook's character as the season progressed, they'd been thoroughly erased. And yet she still had one fear that was impossible to banish.

Every Wednesday, Holbrook called to take her to Hyde Park, but instead, he brought her to his town house. He'd shown her exactly why her friends were so happily married. Why they didn't dread their husband's touch as Lucy had dreaded Mansfield's visits when he'd still bothered.

During their all-too-brief moments together, she'd come to a horrible realization. She loved Holbrook. He was in her heart more deeply than Mansfield had ever been.

Which was why that Wednesday, when he brought them to his town house, she didn't immediately fly into his arms the moment the bedroom door was closed.

He lifted one brow. "Is something the matter?"

She'd thought this moment would be difficult. To her surprise, it was the opposite. But then everything with Holbrook felt natural and easy. And she knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything for her.

Which was why she needed to give him the chance to back away now if he had even the smallest doubt about their future.

"The season will be coming to an end soon."

He stared at her for several seconds before finally speaking. "Is it just the season that is ending?"

His jaw was tense, his stare solemn, and she realized what he must be thinking. That she was seeking to put an end to their affair.

She closed the space between them and cradled his face in her hands. "No, that wasn't what I was saying."

He closed his eyes, and she felt the shudder that ran through his body before he held her close to his heart.

She'd bungled this badly. When he pulled away again, she smiled at him. "I only meant to say that we need to decide what will happen next. My brother is returning to his country seat, but I have nowhere else I need to be. I can stay in London."

He took hold of her hands and brought them together, holding them against his chest. Against his heart. She could feel the strong, steady thrum of its beat through their clasped hands.

"I need to return to the country, Lucy. My mother plans to visit."

A shard of ice pierced her heart. Holbrook was leaving?

Her initial instinct was to pull away. Tell him goodbye, perhaps offer one more afternoon together. And then she'd escape and hide away in her bedchamber at her brother's town house.

She didn't know where the instinct came from, but a wave of denial flowed through her. It was so powerful she almost didn't recognize her voice when she spoke. "No. You can't leave."

"Come with me, Lucy. Marry me. I can get a special license and we can be married before the end of the season."

She hesitated.

"I love you, Lucy. I'll wait for you. And if this is all I can ever have with you, then it will be enough. I'll return to London as soon as I'm able, and we can spend as much time together as we want."

The words burst out of her. "What if I can't give you children? You'll come to hate me." It was her worst fear. That she would be a disappointment to him. She didn't worry that he would turn away from her as her husband had done, but that didn't mean she wanted to be a burden to him.

He shook her gently. "The last time I checked, there was no way for any woman to know whether she'd be able to carry a child. Yet people get married all the time."

She smiled, touched by his desire to comfort her. "And husbands then grow to resent their barren wives."

"Not all of them. I wouldn't. All I want is you."

"But—"

"Lucy, I have three brothers. I don't need an heir. I already have a handful of them. Would I like a child? I'm not going to lie and say I wouldn't dote on a little girl who looked just like her beautiful mother. Although I suppose I'd also love her if she looked more like me."

The wry twist of his lips startled a surprised laugh out of her. She threw her arms around him, too overcome with emotion to speak.

To his credit, he simply held her and waited. Ever patient. Hers.

When she pulled back, he lifted a hand to brush away the tears that were silently sliding down her cheeks. "Are these happy tears or sad tears?"

"They're happy tears," she managed with a broken sob. "I love you so much."

"Does that mean you'll marry me?"

"Yes, Lucas. It was always going to be yes."

He brushed his mouth over hers. "I'll spend every day of my life trying to be worthy of you."

"You already are," she whispered against his mouth before deepening the kiss. Then she proceeded to show him just how much she loved him.