“We are both ridiculous, then.”
She groaned. “Perhaps we are. But while my name might be a lie, the way I feel about you is not.”
Matthew clenched his jaw. “Stop it.”
“I cannot. I had no idea, when I came here, whether or not I would be able to fall in love with you. I’d barely dared to hope. But I did. And Matthew, I think you owe it to me to make very certain you couldn’t love me before you walk away.”
“I owe you nothing.”
“Is this because of Sally Duncan? Do you still love her?”
Matthew groaned. “I hate that you know so much about me and I knownothingabout you.” He looked her in the eye. “Miss Duncan wounded my pride, it probably needed the blow. My heart was left intact.”
Lucy waited for her heart to be comforted by the fact that the woman wondered about for three years had no hold on Matthew, but the comfort never came. She was hollow, if he’d been in love with Miss Duncan, then his actions would have at least made sense. But without that, his rejection was just that. A rejection—ofher.
Still, the way he looked at her, or didn’t look at her, and the way he’d danced with her only last night… his actions didn’t seem like those of a man wholly uninterested. “Perhaps if we had more time together?”
He shook his head, his eyes not meeting hers. “I cannot love a woman who deceived me for so long.”
She stepped forward until she was close enough to reach out and touch him. “Prove it.”
He scoffed. “How would I prove it?”
Lucy took another step forward and raised her face toward his. If he was going to leave her anyway, she might as well try Helena’s and Mrs. Tucker’s idea. Not just because she hoped it might change his mind. She’d been engaged to Matthew for three years. She’d bought his mother dozens of hats and gloves, putting up with her rambling explanations of how, any day now, her son would return. If nothing else, he owed her one good kiss. “Drop that bag of yours and kiss me. Right here, right now. If you feel nothing, I will go home and say nothing. I’ll tell my family I wasn’t able to convince you to marry me, and I will free you from any obligations you might feel toward me due to our history.”
He shook his head and took a step back. “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t go around kissing women who only want to marry me for my title.”
“It may have started that way, but I have many more reasons for wanting to marry you now.”
The muscle at the corner of his jaw ticked.
He was so prideful, standing there hurting her. Leaving her, again. Couldn’t he give her just this one thing? Couldn’t he at least try? Tears started to form in her eyes. She was a breath away from falling on her knees and begging him. What good was her dignity when her happiness was about to be torn from her? She took a step forward and started to bend one knee.
His hand shot out and grabbed her by the elbow. His breath was coming faster than it should. Was he so angry with her that he couldn’t keep air in his lungs? “Do not,” he said with steel in his voice, “beg me to kiss you.”
Her voice shook like leaves in the wind. “It's too late. I already have.”
He stepped closer to her this time. Closing the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart. “I’m a gentleman. You are one of the few people in Fenswallow who should understand that.”
Lucy lifted her face toward his, defiance swelling from her limbs. “If that were true…” She forced the words to come out strong this time. “You wouldn’t break your promise and leave me.”
Matthew glanced at the road behind them, then to Mr. Bennion’s house. He muttered a word, low under his breath, and it only solidified his lack of gentlemanly status. “Is Mrs. Tucker inside?”
“No. I was so worried when you didn’t come, she went looking for you.”
He dropped his bag.
For a moment the air was still between them. A bird cried in the distance and a breeze blew a strand of Lucy’s hair into her face. Then, with one more muttered curse, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward Marge’s shed. He threw open the door and pulled them both inside. Marge’s ears pricked up at their arrival and her haunches twitched when the door slammed closed behind them. Flecks of hay burst into life, disturbed by the gust of fresh air, dancing in the beams of light that shone from Marge’s one window.
Marge shifted to her left and Matthew pulled Lucy away from the door, fixing her with his gaze. “I will have no witnesses to this. I won’t be trapped into an unwanted marriage.”
Lucy ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Was he really going to kiss her? Right here in Marge’s stall? Matthew’s eyes followed the movement of her mouth. Deep in his throat, Matthew made a sound that made her think perhaps Helena and Mrs. Tuckerhad been right. Kissing him wouldn’t hurt her chances. Quite the opposite. He stepped forward, and the look in his eye was so primal, she stepped back. “I never wanted to trap you. All I’ve ever wanted was to give us a chance at happiness.” Her spine and the back of her head hit the rough wooden walls of the stall.
Matthew’s eyes hadn’t left her face, and she wasn’t certain he’d heard the words she’d spoken. As his right hand found the base of her neck, his fingers splayed out and plunged upward into her hair. He pulled her closer to him. Lucy closed her eyes and allowed every sense but sight to overwhelm her. The smell of hay and Marge’s coat, Matthew's fingers warm against her scalp, the small sliver of hope that a kiss would be enough for Matthew to decide to stay with her.
