Page 142

“I only want to bring him to justice.”

“Not beat him?”

“Physically? No.”

He held his breath. After what Millie had revealed about her father, he knew his past violence might petrify her. But she remained calm. Thoughtful.

She placed her hand over her stomach, and his chest tightened.

“Mont,” she said.

“Pardon?” He frowned in confusion.

“I just remembered that you rescued Mont. Barker told me what he suffered. You rescued him because you understood.”

“Yes.” His tension eased.

“Are you sure nothing could make you lose control again?”

“I am,” he rasped. “Just after Almack’s, I went to Blackwell’s house. Willard brought his band of boys to the street outside the townhouse. If I’d have wanted to beat him senseless, I could have done so with Blackwell, Daughtry and Neville at my side. I’m not that man any longer.”

“My heart knows you are telling the truth. I believe you.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I know you. I trust you.”

Oh, God. He couldn’t breathe.

But he forced himself to continue, knowing he must answer the specific fears she’d stated. “You accused me of expecting you to fall at my feet. Never, Lenora. Never. I have taken you for granted, but I will not do so again.”

Her gentle eyes watered.

Or perhaps she blurred because of his own tears.

“If I cause you pain,” he went on, “I want you to make sure I face the consequences. I know you will.”

That brought a half-smile to her face.

“And I will never resort to browbeating, either physically or verbally.” He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against her temple. “Especially not this precious brow.”

With a sigh that conveyed a profound sense of relief, she leaned heavily against his shoulder, a gesture of both weariness and trust.

“You’re a good man,” she whispered.

Good. There was that word again.

He wrapped his arm around her and then rested his lips against her hair. Her lavender scent calmed the ache left by unburdening his heart—a wound, long bound, but now uncovered, open to healing sunlight and air.

Over several long minutes, his breath evened, as a sense of rightness stole into his heart.

And yet, he knew they were not yet all the way across the ice.

“Lenora...?”

“Umm?”

“You haven’t been entirely truthful with me, either.”

She lifted her head. “I haven’t?”

“Millie told me your father wasn’t just cruel.” He rubbed her arm with a calming caress. “He was violent, too. "