Page 48 of To Break the Rules

Lucia stared at him, seeing the strength of purpose in his gaze, the determination.

“Why are you so determined to marry me? I have no name, no breeding, no fortune, no connections. I can only close doors to you. Why are you so single-minded? Have you fallen for my pretty face, is that it?” She hated the mocking tone of her question, yet she heard the fear behind it too, the worry that it was just lust, some superficial emotion that would fade the moment he tired of her in his bed.

“A thousand ships were launched for a face I don’t believe could have been as lovely as the one I look upon now,” he said, smiling a little. “But no, that isn’t it.”

“What, then?” she demanded, alarmed by the desperation in her voice. “Tell me why and make me believe it. I want to believe it.”

To her shame she felt tears prick at her eyes, and she blinked to hold them back.

He paused and then glanced around to see if anyone had observed them before turning back to her. “I recognise myself in you. A raw bundle of hope and hatred, of longing and determination. I see your desire to belong, and the way you keep everyone at a distance. You think if you reject them first, they can’t hurt you, but you’re wrong. We are kindred spirits, you and I, and I know in my heart… in my soul, that I could be happy with you, and I’d try my damndest to make you happy too, Lucia.”

Lucia blinked hard and walked on, drawing in a deep breath to keep the emotions at bay as he followed at her side.

“Let me in, love. At least give me the chance to prove myself.”

She let out a sound of pain, of desperation, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

“Lucia,” he said, his voice so full of concern and tenderness she couldn’t help the tears that spilled over. “Love, please,” he begged her.

“I’m frightened,” she said, staring up into eyes of such blue she saw the fields that had been so familiar to her as a child, the colour a blaze of fierce indigo beneath a fiery sun.

“I know,” he said, holding her gaze. “I know what it is to be afraid and unsure who to trust. I know that you’ve been hurt before, but not by me. Never by me.”

Lucia nodded, not knowing any longer what to do for the best. She took another deep breath and wiped her eyes with her hand, hoping no one had seen her little outburst.

“Is the Earl of Ulceby your father, Lucia?” he asked.

She let out a breath of laughter at that. “Nothing so simple as that, I’m afraid,” she said, smiling at him. It didn’t surprise her that he asked. It was the obvious conclusion.

He frowned and then gave her a rueful smile. “You’re determined to be a mystery, aren’t you?”

“No,” she said, realising it was true. “Not any longer. It’s just that I… I don’t know what to tell you. How to begin, and—”

“And you can’t be sure you can trust me.”

There was no anger in his eyes when she shrugged instead of answering him.

“Can we perhaps start with something small? A little revelation that will not cost you too dearly?”

Lucia gave him a curious look, wondering if there was any part of her story that wouldn’t cost her dear.

“An exchange, then,” he said, as if sensing her reluctance. “Let me see….” he mused and then snapped his fingers. “The very thing.”

He flashed a grin at her, and Lucia felt the ground shift beneath her feet. Damn him for that devilish smile, it did ridiculous things to her heart.

“You know, I think, that I ran away from home and lived on the streets for some time?”

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“My father had berated me all my life, telling me I was stupid, that I didn’t deserve to inherit his title. I wonder now if perhaps… well, if perhaps he wasn’t my father. I know he tried damn hard to get another child from my mother, to no avail. So, he was stuck with me, like it or not. He didn’t like it,” he added with a twisted smile.

Lucia listened with her heart aching as he illustrated a life where he was at the mercy of his father’s hatred and furious temper. A world where he was never good enough and made to feel worthless. The last, terrible row he’d had with his father had culminated in Lord Cavendish making his father a promise. He’d take nothing from him, not a penny ever again. He’d never claim his inheritance.

Not until his own worth was twice what his father’s was.

That he’d done it made Lucia look at the man beside her with a surge of compassion and pride for everything he’d achieved. Yet, as he revealed those early days when he’d turned his back on his father and his fortune, it was clear he had survived some desperate times.

“Pride is a terrible thing, and a young man’s pride the fiercest of all,” he added ruefully. “I was hungry and cold and frightened, but I was damned if I’d let my old friends see me in such… well, you can imagine.”