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“I…” He looked away. “I wanted to make men like my father, men who used their power to hurt others, suffer for their sins. I saw most of the peerage as being like him, but the truth is, the peerage is like everyone else. Some good like you, some bad like him, and some in between.”
“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still find the men like your father and use your position to expose them.”
He looked down into her eyes once again, his gaze searching hers. “True. But something is now even more important to me.”
“What?” She stared up at him, her heart racing in her chest.
“You. I fell in love with you. And I’d do anything to make you happy. Keep you from harm.”
She knew his words were the truth just as she knew in this moment that he was the man for her. “I know you will.”
He kissed her again, this time tilting her mouth open to brush his tongue along the tip of hers. Sensation, pure and raw, pulsed between her legs and she moaned into his mouth.
The kiss went on and on, his hand circling her waist to slide up her ribcage and then over her breast, holding the weight of it in his palm.
She arched into the touch, her nipple tightening as her head fell back. He buried his face into the column of her neck, groaning as he did.
She covered his hand with hers, wanting more as words began to fall from her lips. “I think I always knew I belonged with you. I just didn’t know if you thought so too.”
He stilled, not removing his hand but not needing her flesh, either. “Clara.” There was a warning in his voice that made her die a bit inside.
“You don’t want me that way?”
“I want you in every way,” he answered, looking down into her eyes. “I’d marry you in the next instant if I thought your family would approve.”
“My family?” But the reminder robbed much of her joy. Her family.
“I’m a bastard, Clara. My fate may change or I might be exactly what you see now.”
“Which is the man I love. I don’t care.” She pulled herself closer, taking his lips to prove her point. He returned her kiss before he slid back again.
“And I appreciate that so much.” He searched her face, his own scrunched in pain. “But your father might not feel that way.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, but even she knew that was a lie. She couldn’t disappoint her mother now. That was the very last thing she could do.
Ralph looked at her angelic face, her lips puffy and a bit swollen from his kisses, and he gave a mental curse.
Nothing would make him happier than to make Clara his. Even now, part of him wished to steal her in the night and make a break for Gretna Green. She’d be his forever.
But even if he hadn’t found his precise future yet, the last week had taught him a great deal about who he wanted to be, even if he didn’t quite know the what yet.
And who was the sort of man that lived his life honestly and without judgment. At least not judgment that was predetermined by class or prejudice. He could confess that he’d made several judgments on Clara and Kinross and even the queen.
Not anymore.
And he’d not be the man who stole a woman like a thief in the night. He’d have her honorably or not at all.
Not that there would ever be another. Clara was the only one for him.
“You don’t mean that. Of course you care. It’s why we’re making a mad dash back to London.”
She winced. “I know that. But when it comes to my marriage, I’ll not let other people’s feelings dictate my heart.”
He appreciated her declaration far more than he could express. So instead, he kissed her. A long kiss that held all the love that had collected in his heart. He had no idea if he’d ever hold her in his arms like this again.
And while he’d never take her maidenhead outside of marriage, would it be wrong to bring her some pleasure? Show her how much he cared?
He pulled back. “Clara.”
