Page 2 of The Pleasures of Passion

“I haven’t snagged anyone yet.” Besides, the wordsnagwas too coarse for what she wanted from Niall—his mind, his heart, his soul. Since hers already belonged to him.

“There you are,” said a masculine voice behind them. “Thank God you came.”

Her heart leapt as she turned to see Niall striding up to them. At twenty-three, he was quite the handsomest man she’d ever known—lean and tall and possessed of the most gorgeous hazel eyes, which changed color from cedar brown to olive green depending on the light. And his unruly mop of gold-streaked brown hair made her itch to set it to rights.

Though she didn’t dare be so forward until they were formally betrothed. Assuming that ever happened.

Offering Brilliana his arm, he cast Gilly a pointed glance. “I’ll need a few minutes alone with your mistress. Will you keep watch?”

Gilly curtsied deeply. “Of course, my lord.”

Normally her maid balked a little at that, but she was obviously eager to allow Niall a chance to propose.

Indeed, his behavior did signal that today’s meeting wasn’t going to be like the others. Without his typical pleasantries, Niall led Brilliana into the woods to the clearing where they generally talked.

That dimmed her joy in their meeting a fraction. “You do realize how fortunate we are that Gilly is a romantic. Otherwise, she would never let us do these things.”

“I know, Bree.”

He was the only one to call her that, and she rather liked the nickname. It made her sound carefree when she felt anything but.

Halting well out of earshot of Gilly, he added, “And then I wouldn’t get the chance to dothis.”

He drew her into his arms for a long, ardent kiss, and she melted. If he was kissing her, he obviously didn’t mean to break with her. As long as they had this between them . . .

But it was over far too soon. And when he drew back to stare at her with a haunted look, her earlier dread returned.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

Glancing away, he mumbled a decidedly ungentlemanly oath. “You’ll be furious with me.”

She fought to ignore the alarm knotting her belly. “I could never be furious with you. What has happened? Just tell me.”

“This morning I fought a duel.”

“What?” Her heart dropped into her stomach. How could that be? “I—I don’t understand.” She must have heard him wrong. Surely the man she’d fallen in love with wasn’t the violent sort.

“I killed a man, Bree. In a duel.”

Shehadn’tmisheard him. Still scarcely able to believe it, she roamed the little clearing, her blood like sludge in her veins. “What on earth would even make you do such a thing?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He threaded his fingers through his hair. “It’s done, and now I risk being hanged.”

Because killing someone in a duel was considered murder. Her heart stilled. Her love was a murderer. And now he could die, too!

“So I’m leaving England tonight,” he went on. “For good.”

The full ramifications of all he’d told her hit her. “You . . . you’re leaving England,” she echoed hollowly.And me.

His gaze met hers. “Yes. And I want you to go with me.”

That arrested her. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I’m asking you to marry me.” He seized her hands. “Well, to elope with me. We’ll go by ship to Spain, and we’ll wed there. Then my friends in Corunna will help us settle in.”

She gaped at him. He wasserious. He actually meant for her to leave her family and home and run away with him now that he’d gone off andkilleda man.

But in a duel. Might it not have been done with good reason?