Page 104 of The Marriage Method

Nell turned back to him. Her arms were still folded protectively in front of her. “And what about your loyalty?”

“You have it,” Miles said without hesitation. This time he couldn’t refrain from touching her. He lifted his hand to her face. Blessedly, she didn’t pull away from him. She remained there, still as a trembling kitten, uncertain yet whether it would permit the impertinence or whether it would dash off and disappear.

And he felt so much for her.

It coiled tight within him. A vital, palpable thing. Friendship, he’d thought. A mad, desperate attraction. But it was something else, wasn’t it? Something far more perilous to his heart.

She was right. He did love the Courant. Until she had come into his life, it had been all he’d loved.

But not anymore.

He held her gaze. “You’ve grown up hearing about how Miss Corvus was betrayed by the blackguard she was meant to marry. She’s raised you to distrust all men as a result. With good reason, I don’t doubt. But you can trust me, Nell. You can trust me. I would never hurt you. Not on purpose.”

Her mouth trembled.

“And I’m not going to publish that story,” he said. “Not for any reason. Not even if you left me tomorrow and never came back.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “But…please don’t do that.”

• • • • •

Nell’s hurt and anger were already beginning to fade. At Miles’s husky plea, they disintegrated further.

It occurred to her that she may have been unfair.

No. Not unfair. Unreasonable.

She’d assumed the worst of him on the flimsiest evidence. And not based on his own actions, but on the actions of men so unconnected with him—with either of them—as to not matter at all.

But when she’d seen his notes…

The feeling of betrayal had been so stark and sudden. Like a slap to the face, but worse. And it wasn’t her anger at Miles that had pierced her to her soul. It was her anger at herself.

She’d let down her guard with him. Had lowered her defenses and allowed him into her confidence, her bedchamber, her heart, by heaven. And like any skillful thief he’d taken everything she’d offered—and several things she hadn’t.

“Regrettably, his best quality is also his worst one,” Nell recalled telling Effie. “He pays attention.”

Isn’t that what he’d been doing ever since they’d met? Noticing everything? Cataloging it and organizing it, setting it down on paper like the analytical madman he was?

It wasn’t malice, she realized. It was simply Miles.

Some of the starch went out of her spine. At length, she covered his hand with her own.

A spasm of relief crossed his face.

Nell hadn’t imagined she could feel any worse. “I’m sorry if I—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I won’t hear it. It was I who—”

“Yes, but I do understand. I should have—”

“Why would you? You don’t know me well enough yet to realize that I’m a man of my word.”

Nell inwardly winced. He was being unduly generous. She may not have experience with the strength of his word, but she did know that he was a man of principle. One willing to take any number of risks to do the right thing. It was the whole reason the Courant was in its present predicament, because Miles had risked public support for the paper in order to expose the corruption and hypocrisy of a powerful man.

She dropped her hand from his. Folding her arms again, she walked to the recessed window on the opposite side of the room. The curtains were drawn back, revealing the low, cushioned seat. Outside, rain clouds filled the evening sky, blocking out the setting sun. A soft drizzle fell against the glass.

“It’s easy to forget how short a time it is since first we met,” she said.

Miles came to stand beside her. “We’ve been in each other’s company’s a great deal since then.”