Page 93 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“What?” He straightened in alarm. “Where? How—”

“It deflected from your arm right into my padding.” She picked up the padding she had worn, discarded with her wig on the floor, and dug her fingers inside it, pulling out the spent ball and holding it up. “It turned out to be an even more useful disguise than I had anticipated.” She moved back to kiss him gently. “Thank you. You shouldn’t go about sacrificing yourself like that, but I’m very glad you did. If you hadn’t done that, Robert might very well have killed me.”

Nathan cupped her face between his hands. “I will have nightmares about that moment for years.” He kissed her, his lips lingering for a long, sweet moment, then pulled her up to sit on the sofa with him. He turned to her, his face earnest. “I want to say something to you.”

Verity’s heart skipped a beat. What if he’d decided to let her go?

“The other day, when I asked you to marry me, I was angry because you reminded me that only a year ago, I’d been in love with Annabeth. I was—I don’t deny that.”

A little pain pierced her heart, and she said quietly, “I don’t want to be the woman you settle for.”

“You’re not. There’s no question of settling. Verity, you are the woman I want. My feelings for you are entirely different than what I felt for Annabeth. She...she was my lifelong friend, and I loved her in a quiet way. It was a peaceful, sweet sort of love. We didn’t argue. I never got angry with her. She was perfect.”

“This is hardly the way to convince me you love me instead of Annabeth,” Verity said drily.

“Let me finish. That was what I thought love should be. It was what I wanted—our lives fit. We matched. It was easy.”

Verity raised an eyebrow.

Nathan hurried on, “But love isn’t easy. Love isn’t just getting along or being comfortable or matching. It’s wild and intoxicating and uncertain. You and I argue and I worry, and I’m never smooth and adept with you. There’s no handling you, no way of tying you down. And I have absolutely no defense against you. You can cut straight through my soul.” Nathan ran a hand back through his hair, searching for the right words. “When I hold you, when I kiss you, when we make love, it’s the most exciting—no, exciting is too tame a word for what I feel. I feel as if everything inside me changes, as if I am torn apart and made whole again.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not saying this very well, am I?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, I think you’re saying it just right.”

Nathan took her hand between his. “I’m not asking that you feel the exact same way. I just want you to know that you are in no way my second choice. You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. With Annabeth, I played the noble part and broke off the engagement. I could never do that with you. I am not going to be the gentleman this time. If you move to Paris, I am going with you. If you won’t marry me, we’ll live in sin. I refuse to lose you.”

Warmth spread through Verity, and her lips curved up in a teasing smile. “You mean you would hold me against my will?”

Nathan sighed. “Blast it, Verity, you make it very difficult to issue grand romantic statements. No, of course I wouldn’t force you to stay with me if you didn’t want to—I could not bear to be the reason for your unhappiness. But I’d bloody well try to convince you to stay. I’d never stop trying to woo you. I certainly wouldn’t offer to break it off to make it easier for you. I’d do my best to make it damned difficult for you to leave.”

Verity smiled. “Then it’s a good thing that I intend to marry you, isn’t it?”

Nathan had drawn breath to speak, but at her words, he stopped and stared. “What did you say?”

“I want to marry you. I accept your proposal—and don’t think I’ll let you out of your offer. I’m not nearly as good a person as you. If you left me, I promise I’d make your life a living hell.”

Nathan relaxed, letting out a soft laugh. “Would you?” He pulled her to her feet, smiling down into her face.

“Of course. I would haunt you. Send evil notes to any woman who caught your fancy. Cut up all your neckcloths. Set Petunia on your best boots.”

“You are wicked.” Nathan put his hands at her waist.

“I am. Because, you see, you are mine. I love you, and I’m never letting go.” Verity laid her head against Nathan’s chest. Nathan pressed his lips to Verity’s forehead and said, “You knew, didn’t you? Before I started my grand statement, you’d already made up your mind to marry me.”

Verity smiled. “Yes.”

“Yet you let me blather on.”

“Of course. I liked hearing it.”

“I think you just like to torture me.” He stroked his hand across her hair.

“There is that, as well.”

“Why did you say yes? Not that I’m objecting, mind you, but you were so against it. Why did you change your mind?”

“Well, you’re a very good catch, you know,” Verity said.

“Ha. What a bouncer. I am a terrible prospect, and you know it—a man with an estate mortgaged to the hilt, nothing to offer you.”