“That’s because you aren’t.”
His gaze searched hers for a moment, and then he bowed his head slightly, brushing her hand with his lips. “Knowing I can repay John, in some small way… it gives me something I thought I’d lost—a sense of purpose.”
She squeezed his fingers. “And you’ll do a tremendous job. I have no doubt of it.”
“It would be preferable,” Dominic said, “if you helped raise Tristan as well.”
Dorothea was surprised by the sudden gravity in his tone. “He already has a mother.”
“Yes, he does. But I also believe no child can have too many people in their life who love them.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
A pause stretched between them before Dominic said, “Then we shall do so… together. As man and wife.”
The last words escaped him almost on a breath—spoken with quiet urgency, as if the very act of saying them risked unraveling something fragile inside him.
Dorothea’s smile faltered. “I thought we had discussed this already.”
“We did,” he admitted, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “But I was hoping to revisit the conversation.”
She studied him, unsure whether to feel hopeful. “Has anything changed since we last spoke?”
Dominic met her gaze, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “Yes. Something has changed. I’ve come to realize… I don’t want to live without you.”
She could hear honesty in his words. Longing. But not quite what she needed to hear. Still, the one thing her heart craved above all remained unsaid.
Love.
She opened her mouth to speak, but just then, the back door opened, and Wright stepped outside.
“Forgive the interruption, my lady,” he said with a slight bow. “Lady Sarah and Mrs. Haverleigh have requested a moment of your time.”
Dorothea’s brows drew together. “They are here?Now?”
“Yes, my lady,” Wright confirmed.
Dominic turned, his jaw tightening at once. “Send them away.”
But Dorothea held up a hand. “Wait.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Why? What could they possibly want from you now?”
She gently withdrew her hand from his. “Arabella has always been cruel to me,” she said. “But her mother—Lady Sarah—has never treated me with anything but kindness.”
Dominic looked unconvinced, his mouth drawn into a firm line. “Kindness is sometimes just diplomacy in finer clothing.”
“Perhaps,” Dorothea said. “But I still want to hear what she has to say. If only to understand her reasons for coming.”
“If they upset you…” Dominic started.
“I won’t let them,” she replied, her voice steady. “Not anymore.”
Dominic’s expression shifted from concern to admiration. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“I need to do this on my own.”
He relented after a moment. “Very well. But once they’ve gone, I’d like to revisit our earlier conversation.”
