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“Imagine my surprise, Mina, when I returned a shawl and gained a fiancée,” he said, settling onto the seat across from her.
She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her eyes hidden by the shadow cast by her bonnet brim. “Why did you corroborate my lie?” she asked.
He’d done it for many reasons, none of them practical. He couldn’t confess to the reason that remained topmost in his mind. When he’d returned her home that evening, he hadn’t wanted to leave her.
He wanted to keep her by his side.
It was as simple as that. Right now it was all he could do to remain seated across from her, instead of moving next to her. Taking her into his arms, where his heart told him that she belonged.
He must choose his words carefully. He wasn’t thinking clearly. “When your uncle asked me if we had become betrothed this evening, I didn’t know what to say. We have shared several passionate embraces, and most would say that was grounds for an engagement.”
“Oh no. Drew.” She twisted the edge of her shawl in her hands. “I’m not trying to trap you into marriage. I hope you didn’t agree out of some chivalrous notion that since we’ve kissed we must wed, because I don’t feel that way.”
There may have been some chivalry involved. Some pride and somepossessiveness. She brought that out in him. “All of this—the kissing, the search for Rafe, and now this fake engagement. Won’t any of it have consequences?”
“Perhaps for me,” she replied softly, “but your life can go on exactly as it was before you met me. Once this is over, and we break things off, you’ll be able to find your sensible bride and bring her to Cornwall.”
He didn’t know what he wanted anymore—for life to go back to the way it was before, or something else.
A new way forward. A possibility he’d never imagined.
“I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me,” she said, her voice quiet and subdued. “I know you don’t like to be caught off guard or to lose even an inch of control.”
“I didn’t lose control, I seized it. There were two ways to turn—left or right. Good or bad. Moral or immoral.”
“Agreeing to a fake engagement with me was the moral choice?”
“You told me that going back to Sutton Hall would be like dying for you. After speaking with your uncle, I fully understand why. He doesn’t understand who you are at all. He thinks he can shape you, mold you into something he wants you to be.” He placed his hand against the seat cushion, wishing he could touch her instead. “He’s obviously deluded.”
She frowned, and then her face cleared and her eyes brightened. “You understand. You really, truly understand.”
“Don’t sound so shocked. I’m not without perceptive abilities.”
“You know that he stifles me with his overprotectiveness, his rules and restrictions. And you’re offering me my freedom. It’s extraordinary. When I first met you I thought you were just like him. But you’re the complete opposite.” She met his gaze. “Drew. You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.”
The emotion lighting her eyes was reward enough. Though it was all a sham, and probably an enormous risk that could have unforeseen and damaging consequences, it all felt worthwhile in this moment.
He’d helped her, he’d been useful to her, and he’d fought for her freedom.
She was grateful. She was smiling. It made him happy.
“I told him that his letter and my brief acquaintance with you had confirmed that you were the perfect choice of wife for me. I told him that we would be married by special license and I would hasten you back to Cornwall immediately, where you would stay under lock and key until you bore me an heir.”
Her eyes widened. “You did not.”
“Words to that effect. It seemed to be what he wanted to hear.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “You’re brilliant. You were speaking his language. How did you know that would be the perfect thing to say?”
“I know men like your uncle. They see the world always in terms of what it means to them, not what it means to other people. You were either going to become my wife, because then you would be mine to protect, or you’d be hidden away back in the countryside, where he could protect you. I told him that we didn’t want the union made public until all of the details were in place. It buys us time to continue the quest.”
But what came after the quest was over?
The carriage traveled over cobblestones, jostling her against the cushioned wall.
She pressed her nose to the window. “We’re close to Berwick Street. The house I grew up in is Number Seven. I haven’t been back yet. I didn’t want to see it. But now I want to, just for a moment.”
Drew rapped on the carriage ceiling and the wheels slowed.
