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“I asked if that’s what you want.”
“And I asked if that’s what you want.”
“What I want is to…”
Alongside them, the lake’s surface was choppy. A leaf tumbled through the air, tossed and turned by the wind, which dropped it onto the lake to be tossed and turned by the water.
“To stop feeling like that,” Arabella finished, pointing at the leaf.
Guy reached out his stick to snare it, but the wind rippled along the surface and the leaf skittered away.
Walking on, they turned onto a straight stretch of path, sheltered by a towering hedge and lined with statues of Greek gods.
“This is not what you agreed to,” she said, as they passed Poseidon with his beard and trident. “It was kind of you to step in, but this is hardly fair.”
“You said you are no martyr.”
“No, but I imagine you are not one either. No need for us both to be miserable.”
He huffed out air. “Arabella, speak directly. I haven’t your subtlety or complexity of thought.”
“It seems you have become a rare beast: You hold noble principles and you live by them. That is something to be honored, not exploited. It is time I faced the fact that Papa will never accept me on my own terms. You never meant it to go this far, did you?”
“No.” He trailed the stick in the gravel. “And you’ll— What? Simply walk away?”
“Perhaps I should have done so years ago.”
“Your father will cut you off. You’ll lose everything.”
Perhaps it had never been hers to lose, and her biggest mistake was thinking it could be.
“I’ll figure something out,” she said. “I always do. It is my problem, not yours.”
There: She had released him. But he did not answer. Instead, he pulled off his hat and balanced it on the end of his stick as they walked, spinning it, throwing it into the air, and catching it again.
Good grief. The man was a marquess, yet he behaved like a playful child. And she—Oh, be honest. She was as much a child. She could gather her skirts and leap for that hat. Knock it off the stick and grab it and run. He’d catch her easily, and they’d tumble onto the grass and—
Not like children, then.
Finally, Guy threw his hat into the air, jumped to seize it in his free hand before the wind stole it, and stopped beside the next statue. Apollo, with sculpted muscles, long curls, and a lyre.
“I refuse to surrender until we have exhausted all options,” he said. “We have a whole sixteen days to fix this. I cannot believe you are giving in.”
“Don’t be absurd. I never give in. I am merely changing my strategy.”
Finally her brain caught up with her ears. She stared at him. A smile hovered over his lips.
“I don’t need you to rescue me,” said her pride, which did not know how to thank him.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m not rescuing you,” he said, mimicking her. “I’m helping you rescue yourself.”
The look she gave him should have sliced him like the wind, but he only grinned and turned to study Apollo.
“I’ll not be forced to marry you, Arabella,” he said to the statue. “But I find it despicable, the way your father uses the promise of your inheritance to control you. Do you have any idea how thoroughly my father controlled me? I could not even choose how the tailor cut my coat, or how my valet cut my hair. Duty and one’s place in society are all very well, but to deny our personal choices is to erode our very selves. So we must secure your inheritance without your choices being taken away.”
Guy finished this speech by placing his hat on Apollo’s head. He tilted it to a rakish angle and stepped back to admire the effect.
Arabella stared at the statue too, yet while her eyes saw the weathered stone, she was aware only of Guy. Strong, powerful Guy, who owed her nothing, who despised her, who would help her anyway.
