Page 53

Kingston hadn’t meant to tell Vanessa that which he’d only recently acknowledged to himself. He’d never have done so had they not consummated their vows. And since she’d be his until he drew his last breath, he’d wanted her to know.

“I love you, Vanessa.” Closing his eyes, happiness humming through him, he pressed his lips to her forehead, branding her as his. “You have made me so very, very happy.”

He lowered his attention, raking his gaze over every detail of her beloved face.

A tear slid from the corner of one of her eyes, then another and another. With a ragged sob, she buried her face in his shoulder and clung to him.

His brave, intrepid Vanessa, who’d only ever been stoic, shuddered against him as she wept.

“And I…love you…too,” came her stilted, watery reply.

Thank God.

For a few horrible, agonizing seconds, terror had gripped Kingston.

Whispering endearments, he held her until her tears subsided, and, sniffling, she raised her gaze to meet his. Her eyelashes spikey from her weeping, a tremulous smile played across her swollen mouth. “I believe this means we shan’t seek an annulment.”

“No, minx.” Tweaking her nose, he grinned. “We assuredly will not.”

She sniffled again, and he reached to retrieve his handkerchief from his coat pocket. “Here.”

“Thank you,” came her muffled voice as she wiped her damp face. She blew her nose and, after folding the cloth and tucking it behind her, gave him a shy look.

With her hair tousled, bright spots of color on her cheeks, and her lips cherry red from his kisses, she’d never looked more beautiful or tempting. And now she was truly his.

“I shall make you happy, Vanessa.”

Kingston would keep that vow, but first, he must tell her the truth.

She kissed his chest, and love blossomed behind his breastbone, so rich and powerful that tears stung his eyes.

“I’m already ecstatically happy, Kingston.”

The fire burned low, and a chill permeated the room. Reaching over her, he pulled the seafoam green knitted throw from the back of the settee. After draping it across their naked forms, he settled her into the cradle of his arms. Several blissful, contented moments passed, only their even breathing, the fire’s occasional crackle, and the clock’s hypnotic tick-tock breaking the serenity.

“Darling, there’s something I must tell you.” Kingston should’ve done so before making love to her. Should’ve given her the right to choose whether she’d stay with him after she learned the ugly details of Gabriel’s death.

If she decided not to, he’d let her go, of course. And when he became the Duke of Caerleon, he’d use his power to seek a dissolution of their marriage, though it would rip his heart from his chest and see it pulverized beneath a thousand horses’ hooves.

Tilting her head back, Vanessa searched his face. “What is it?”

“I want you to know the truth about Gabriel’s death.” Taking one of her slender hands, Kingston pressed his mouth to the knuckles.

She swallowed and gave a small nod, a tinge of uncertainty in her expression. “All right.”

The brave darling.

Of course, she’d face that straight on, too.

As Kingston brushed his fingertips over her silky shoulders and back, every now and again, pressing a tender kiss into her fragrant hair, he told her all. Kingston didn’t spare himself, laying the blame precisely where it belonged—at his feet.

“It should have been me that died that day, Vanessa. Not Gabriel.”

He stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows play across the ornate surface painted with cherubim capering amongst clouds.

Though he’d considered himself a brave soldier and had never once shrunk from duty in cowardice, Kingston couldn’t bring himself to look at her. To see the condemnation and perhaps hatred in her honey gaze.

She remained perfectly still and utterly silent for a full one-hundred and sixteen tick-tocks of the cursed clock. With every passing second, his heart sank further, his hope evaporating.