Page 56 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Lydia had rather hoped not to see Lucas again before leaving, yet here he was, face shadowed and standing at her door. She could not meet his eyes for fear he would see everything she could not say, that he would see how he’d broken her.

“Yes,” she said, attempting to maintain a cool facade. “In the morning.”

His brow furrowed. “You cannot leave.”

“I cannot possibly stay.”

He seemed at a loss for words as he glanced over his shoulder at the empty hall. “May I come in?”

Well, that was unexpected. “I do not believe that would be very proper.”

His voice was low. “You are right, of course, but nevertheless, might I come in?”

She really should say no. “Very well.” She stepped aside. It was unfortunate that Jones had left a quarter of an hour ago for bed.

Not only did he come in, but he closed the door behind him before meeting her eyes. “Miss Faraday, I...” He took a deep breath, and he appeared more anxious than ever. “I made a grave mistake this morning.”

“Did you?” She did not allow her mind to jump to conclusions.

“Yes. I never should have spoken to you as I did during our conversation.” His eyes dropped down then met hers again. “A time ago, you offered the use of your Christian name. Does that offer still stand?”

She hesitated but nodded. She was incapable of saying no to him, drat it all.

“Good. Lydia Faraday.” Her name on his lips made her swallow hard. “Please do not leave on my account.”

Was that all this was? Fear that he’d offended her and that was why she was leaving?

She built back up her guard that had begun to lower.

She never should have allowed it to waver.

“You can rest easy; I am not leaving on your account.” She backed into the room, looking for something to preoccupy her hands.

“You see, my guardian has died, and I have been summoned back to the Tarrington estate.”

His brows rose. “I am so sorry. I did not know—”

“I only learned of it this morning.” Her back was so stiff that it was beginning to ache. What was he doing here? Had he any clue what pain he was bringing her heart by standing here, taking up far too much space with those broad shoulders of his?

He looked down at his feet and was quiet for a time.

His hands kneaded together in front of him, and when at last he met her eyes again, his were intensely determined.

“I do not do things without first planning, you must understand that, but it seems I do not have the luxury of time; therefore, you will have to forgive the lack of eloquence with which I speak. Lydia, you terrify me.”

She froze in the act of picking up a discarded handkerchief to fold. Her brows knit together. “I am sorry?”

He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “You terrify me. You have since the first moment I saw you and learned that you had an unexplainable control over my heart.”

Her own heart did a sort of jump. It slammed into the cage she had erected around it, and the bars rattled, threatening to break at such a small declaration by him.

“For years,” he continued, “I have lived my life in a very controlled manner. I have acted as I deemed necessary to keep those around me safe, but also, as I’ve learned recently, to keep myself safe from the pain I felt when my sister died. You see, Lydia, I think a part of me died then as well.”

She bit her lips together but said nothing, hoping he would not stop. And hoping for more that she would not even voice in her own head.

“Truth be told, I am not sure if I can fix those broken parts. Even if I can... it could be a long journey yet.”

She nodded, wanting to give him some reaction but unable to find her tongue.

He took a step closer. The distance between them was growing so very short.

“I had thought to perhaps regain your friendship first. Then perhaps to ask to court you. I would not deserve either, but I was prepared to try. Yet now... now you say you are leaving, and I cannot allow you to. I cannot allow you to go because, though my heart is still broken from the past, if you were to leave, I would lose it altogether.”

Lydia could only stare at him, hardly able to countenance his words.

He suddenly shook his head. “I know it is not so perfectly said, but you of all people know how imperfect I am. Yet, despite believing you could not accept me now, I must tell you how deeply I care for you. I must... I must beg you not to go. Please.”

Warmth burst in her chest, carrying feelings she could not identify, except that a thread of happiness—no, of joy —ran through them all. But she could not be so rash as to fall into his arms at mere words. Her life was far more complicated now than simply giving up her inheritance.

She folded her hands into her skirt, if only for something to do.

“I... I do not know what comes next. I do not know what I can do or if I can have any choice in who I court or marry.” She wanted to retreat from the truth but could not.

It was her life. “I do not know if I am at liberty to return your affection any longer.” As unlikely as it was, the new Lord Tarrington could show up in the morning and drag her home.

The thought brought icy fear streaking through her.

Lucas stepped even closer, forcing her to look up at him, and then, with the lightest of touches, his hands caught hers, disentangling them from her skirt.

“I will take you to the Tarrington estate then. I will take you to Gretna Green, Lydia. If you but say the word, I will do anything. I cannot lose you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “You would do that for me?”

“That and more.”

She nodded. “Thank you. No one has ever... That is...” She swiped at her eyes. “Ridiculous tears.”

He chuckled at that. “Now, I do not mean to push you, but say you were at liberty to return my affection...”

“Oh? You want my confession, do you? I have already given it, you know.”

He looked wary. “But your feelings must have—I cannot hope for them to have remained steadfast in the face of my stupidity.”

She shook her head. “What a fool you are.” She said the words with a laugh, but his face was anything but humored.

“I know.”

She squeezed his hand. “No, you do not. You think I could fall out of love with you that easily? If that were possible, I might have saved myself a great deal of pain. Lucas, I have pushed ceaselessly against my feelings for you, even before this morning. I have used every ounce of logic I possess to tell myself not to care, but I was helpless to your pull. If I can stay with you, I will do so in a heartbeat.”

He heaved a sigh, a genuine smile causing his eyes to crease at the edges. “You had me a bit worried there.”

Her eyes sparkled. “You deserved it after what you put me through. You called our kiss misplaced .”

He made a face. “I know. I was horrid.”

She laughed, lightness filling every space where sorrow had flooded over the course of the day. She continued, “Now, I ought to have told you earlier, but I did not regret our kiss. Not a bit. And I do not know what my future holds, but I would really like to face it with you.”

He sobered. “Even if I am broken?”

“I think we are all a little broken. It makes us far more interesting, if nothing else.”

He actually laughed aloud at that. She could grow used to his laugh. Her hand tightened around his. His eyes searched hers.

“I will wait for your inheritance,” he said. “I know how important it is to you to control your future. I can wait.”

Her heart hitched at that, but in the next moment, she shook her head. “No.”

“No?”

He had given up a great deal of his internal control to declare his feelings for her. She could do the same for him, no matter how scary it felt. She trusted him to help her through her future just as she hoped he would trust her to help him heal. “I do not need it.”

“Because I am wealthy enough for the both of us?”

She grinned. “That certainly helps, but no. Because in choosing you, I am controlling my future. I know I will be happy. I do not need thirty thousand pounds to manage it.”

His head dropped lower. “I hardly deserve you.”

“Do not fret,” she said, patting his chest. “I will allow you to make it up to me.”

He chuckled. “I will endeavor to do my best.”

She smiled at him, too happy to even speak.

“I think I ought to go,” he said quietly, glancing quickly around the night-cloaked room.

“That would be responsible.”

His jaw flexed as his eyes dropped to her lips. “Yes.”

“You are not moving though.”

“I am determining how responsible I want to be.”

“I will not bemoan a little lapse in judgment,” she teased.

He released her hand, taking a step back with a pained expression. “No. I will not sully your reputation.”

She heaved a sigh. “I admire you for your control.”

He scowled. “That makes one of us.” He moved backward to the door. “Good night, Lydia.”

“Good night.”

He turned, hand frozen on the door. Then, in a matter of heartbeats, he spun back and paced to her with a determined look. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close. She let out a little gasp of surprise.

“Hang control,” he muttered before pressing his mouth to hers.

The kiss was short. Far too short. But it held a promise of more.

Then he released her. “ Now it is a good night,” he said. Then he left.