Page 78

"She is different," the Duke said. "Special. Perfect."

Lord Hartfield stared at him in surprise for a long moment, long enough to give Victor pause and then he smiled. "Every day, I find myself glad that my Lavinia will be under your protection. She is my daughter in every way that counts and all I have ever wanted for her is the best."

The sound of approaching footsteps made the two men raise their heads and they watched the women come down the stairs. Victor couldn't look away from the vision that was Lavinia in an egg shell day dress. And then his gaze caught on her puffy eyes and he froze.

"Are you quite alright, dear?" Lord Hartfield asked.

"I-uh-"

"She did not get enough sleep last night," it was her aunt that piped up with a stiff smile. "She will be alright after a little, much due rest."

"You all take care," the older man grabbed his hat, waved it at them and then left the house.

"Miss Proctor," he began but she shifted her eyes away quickly and walked past him into the drawing room. He watched her walk fully into the room and settle into the farthest corner of the chair, shoulders drooping with defeat.

As soon as he joined her on the seat, she spoke, "did you not get my note?"

"I got your note."

"Then why are you here?" There was accusation in her voice and then her eyes widened. "Is it about- er- our activities from earlier? If you are bothered about any future consequences-"

He tried to control his temper, but he wasn't sure he was doing all that good of a job, "Consequences? Is that what our child will be? A consequence."

Her eyes narrowed, "what would you have me call it then?"

Victor took a deep breath, "I do not want us to end the engagement. We will go ahead with the marriage."

She gaped at him, green eyes searching his for something, "Did you not see where I explained my reasons?"

"Explained?" he burst out. "Those three lines do not constitute much of an explanation to me. And by the way I do not see how you being in love with me changes things."

He knew those words were a mistake even before they fully left him mouth but bloody hell, he was no good at this. In his entire life he had never had to bare himself in this way. Saying it to his mother was one thing but actually saying it to Lavinia's face was another. What he felt for her was huge and indescribable and all-consuming and those four letters felt too inadequate.

There should have been a whole new language created exclusively for the purpose of explaining what was in his heart.

"Do you want to be bothered with my silly feelings for the rest of your life?" she scoffed.

"Your feelings are not silly," he inched closer, "and honestly, I will not mind you being- feeling for me. On the contrary, I will welcome your feelings and-"

"Please stop!" she hissed, tears filling her eyes. "it is better you told me to go straight to hell with my feelings than trying to patronize me. I do not need you to tolerate or in your own words, merely welcome my feelings. I would much rather disappear to the edge of the world and live out my days there than be indulged by a man I loved."

I love you.

The words stayed stuck in his throat.

"Our child," he began.

"If you are here only for the sake of our child then I will assure you that he or she will be fine. It will not know any other life except-" she choked on her next breath and turned away to compose herself. When she faced him again, she wore a placid smile. "Anyway, it does not signify because there is no way to know that there will even be a child. I do hope there is not."

He froze and then leaned forward and asked urgently, "do you suddenly hate me that much?"

Lavinia's eyes filled with more tears, and he decided that for the rest of his life, he never wanted to see her cry, worst of all because of something he had done.

"Lavinia," he reached for her, and she flinched away.

"Please leave, Your Grace."

"Not until I tell you what I came here to."