Page 72 of When the Scoundrel Sins

Then he stiffened, not so much that anyone else would have noticed. But Belle did. She now noticed everything about him, so attuned had she become to this man. He asked quietly, “You’ll make the announcement tonight, then?”

Confusion mingled with the satiated pleasure fogging her mind. She blinked. “Pardon?”

“When we return to the party.” He inhaled a deep breath of resolve. “You’ll announce that we’re engaged. That I’m the man you’re going to marry.”

The realization of what he was saying—and why—spilled over her like icy water, instantly chilling the blossoming warmth inside her. Slowly, she loosened her arms around his neck and lowered herself back until she could look up into his face, which had grown suddenly grim.

Far too grim for a man who had just made love to the woman he wanted to marry.

The happiness inside her vanished, the loss of it pricking like petals ripped from a flower. She pressed in a trembling whisper, “But you refused before.”

“I also promised to protect you, and now it’s the only way to save Glenarvon.” He glanced away guiltily. “I also just ruined you.”

She leaned back against the rock for support as swift desolation sliced into her. “You made love to me,” she corrected softly.

With each beat of her heart that jarred through her, her soul yearned to hear him say the words…I love you, Annabelle. I want to marry you because I love you and want to be with you, and no other reason.But as each heartbeat ticked off the silent seconds, she knew he wasn’t going to say any of that.

Instead, he replied quietly, “A gentleman marries a lady when he takes her innocence.”

Her hands gripped the rock, this time to keep from falling to the cold ground. The pain that bore into her with each tortured breath she took filled her with a wretched anguish, so brutal that she could barely breathe. How did she not shatter from the pain of it, right there among the ruins?

When she’d chased after him into the darkness, she hadn’t expected him to offer marriage, hadn’t expected more than just this moment together. But this—oh, this was so muchworse! Because he didn’t want to marry her because he loved her.

He wanted to marry her only because she was an obligation.

“No…you’re going to America,” she reminded him softly. Marrying Quinton only to put an ocean between them—once she’d wanted exactly that, but now she couldn’t have borne it. “You promised your father.”

“I promised my father that I would make a good life for myself, that I would make him proud. I can do that right here. With you.” His eyes turned solemn. “I need you, Belle, I know that now. And you need me.”

How much pride it must have cost him to admit that! But need wasn’t love.

Summoning all the strength she possessed, she forced herself to remain on her feet despite the legs beneath her that had gone numb and weak. Somehow she found the determination to keep breathing as she forced out, “That offer no longer stands.”

He frowned, searching her face. “Pardon?”

“That marriage proposal I made to you—I’m taking it back.” She choked down a sob, thankful that the shadows hid her face and glistening eyes. She’d never felt more alone or more helpless in her life, yet she was doing the right thing for her heart. The pain she felt now at rejecting him would be nothing compared to a lifetime of marriage without his love. “I won’t marry you.”

“Yes, you will.” His eyes flared brightly with frustration. “Marrying is good for both of us, Belle. And it solves your problem.”

It solved nothing. Because now she wanted everything—Quinn’s heart, his laughter, his grins, a home and family they’d make together…his love.

If she couldn’t have that, then she’d rather have nothing at all. Living with the specter of what she might have had if he loved her would be unbearable.

“I’ve made my decision.” All of her shook with the effort of holding back her tears. Her frustration and humiliation. Her anguish. “I won’t marry you, Quinton.”

“Annabelle!” Her name echoed through the darkness as Lady Ainsley called for her from the house, shattering the cocoon of quiet shadows around them. “Annabelle, it’s time!”

A dark desolation blackened her insides.Time.It had finally run out for her.

She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go.

“We haven’t settled this,” he bit out.

Her heart tore. Still no admission of love…She blinked rapidly as the hot tears stung her eyes. “Yes, we have.”

She tugged again, and this time, her fingers slipped free.

Leaving him behind in the ruins, she ran down the path and across the lawn, through the dark night toward the house, where Lady Ainsley stood on the terrace waiting for her.