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“Nick, you must!”
“No,” he said flatly. He studied the way her delicate fingers fit between his. “In all honesty, I’d hoped there would be enough gold in that treasure to buy both our families free of our debts. Without it…” He shrugged. “I’ll find a way. I’ve sacrificed for my family already, Cyn. I paid for their comfort and their future on my knees, and I shan’t do it again in my marriage bed.”
Her hand jerked in his grasp. “But that story wasn’t true. That was a lie. Your father would never have…He’d never have…Tell me you don’t believe that.”
The pain had never left him, and it bloomed again, recalled by his memories. “No, it wasn’t true. But it became true. Richmond paid for our home in London. He paid for a new wardrobe for my parents and for me. Paid for lessons so that my sister could learn to dance and my brother could learn French. He bought us easy entrée into the ton. My father took his money in exchange for silence. In exchange for the services I had so thoroughly rendered.”
“That’s not true,” she whispered, her voice twisted by tears.
“In his defense, I suppose he did not want to believe his son had been tortured and raped and nearly killed by a man he trusted. A hard thing for a father to bear. Easier to believe Richmond, who said I had made an unnatural offer and then tried to kill myself over the shame of it when he pushed me from his bed.”
Her nails bit into his skin now, and it was such a relief to focus on that physical discomfort.
“But you know, my father could never look at me again. Either I was a degenerate coward or he had betrayed me. Neither possibility could be borne, I suppose. So when I say I will not do my duty by my family,” he heard his voice rise and could not stop it. “I mean that I owe them nothing more than I’ve already given.”
That dark, wet beast inside him roared its pleasure.
Cynthia eased her arms slowly around his waist, and he held his breath and let her. When her head pressed into his chest, he wrapped her tightly to him. “Don’t cry. I’m not trying to abuse your pity to have my way.”
“Hush,” she ordered, the stern word too watery to be effective.
“I only tell you so you know I mean this. I will not marry for money. You were right. I deserve happiness as much as the next man. And I know how to have it.”
“How?”
“It may take a while, Cyn. A year. Maybe more. I was using you as an excuse to flee my duties, but you are not the start of this. You will be the end. Will you wait for me?”
He leaned back to meet her gaze, but she didn’t answer.
“Will you trust me?”
“I…” she stammered. “How? Anything could happen in a year, Nick!”
“All right then. Don’t trust me. But I will come for you, so you’d best not make promises to some American gent.” He touched a finger to the one tear that still clung to her cheek. “You’d best leave room for me.”
“I don’t understand!”
“Let me prove myself to you.”
She shook her head. “You don’t need to prove yourself to me, Nick.”
“You’ve said I only think I love you because you are a reprieve from my duties. But you are not a reprieve, Cyn. You are strong. And you are brave and passionate. You’re my best friend. You know the boy I used to be, and you see the man I am now, and still you love me.”
“Nick…” She swiped at her eyes and clenched her trembling jaw. “You are so easy to love. There are women with ten thousand a year who will love you. Do not settle for less than you deserve.”
“I deserve to be happy, Cyn. I will find a way. And I will come for you. And then I will court you properly, not…as I have done.”
Her snort was rather damp, so he handed over his handkerchief. When she’d finished blowing her nose, she gave him a shaky smile.
“If that was not done properly, I’m not sure I understand the workings of it.”
He growled at her joke, but in truth he was light with relief. “There’s another reason you’d do well to wait for me. What other man could love a woman with such an indelicate sense of humor? And then there are the awful drawings of unclothed men to consider.”
She shook her head.
“If I find you entertaining an American beau when I arrive, I shall have to accidentally mention your portfolio.”
Cynthia didn’t laugh, but her tears had stopped, so Lancaster pulled her to her feet to continue their tour of the garden.
