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He twisted his head, his lips finding hers. “Keep talking.”

“You’ll work for my father and I’ll send off compositions until we’ve saved enough to buy a home of our own.”

He paused, looking into her eyes. “I should have enough to give you a home already.”

She shook her head. “Hush. You’ve given me plenty. More than I ever hoped for. The rest we’ll build together, and I’ll be happier about it because it wasn’t just yours but ours. Do you understand?”

His body lifted, tightening, and he moaned, the sound ripping from his throat as he finished. When the spasms subsided, he rolled to his side, wrapping her in his arms. “I understand.” He swallowed. “And Cordelia…”

“Yes?” she asked, kissing his lips.

“I…”

Chapter Thirteen

Ash swallowed again, a lump of emotion in his chest. He wanted to confess his…love. Against all odds, he’d fallen in love with this woman. But he wasn’t ready to expose such raw feelings. “Thank you for negotiating a new deal.”

Cordelia squinted her eyes, and then he saw the flicker of pain tighten her features before she carefully hid it again, her face going blank. “Of course. We’ve decided to be the last men standing together, haven’t we?”

She pulled away and rose from the sand, brushing at her skirts in the twilight. He knew he’d just hurt her. After what they’d shared, she’d expected words of affection.

He sat up too, resting his arms on his knees. If his past didn’t scare her away, his present might. “Cordelia.”

She kept brushing, not looking at him. “Yes?”

“I’m honored that you’ll be my wife.”

She gave a stiff nod, still working the sand from her skirts. “As am I.” Then she moved away from him, toward the house. “I should return. I’m already late for dinner and my family will wonder.”

He pulled up his breeches, tucking his shirt back in. “I’ll escort you to the house.”

“That isn’t—”

“It is.” He ignored the sand. “I’ll talk to your father in the morning about our union, but I’d like to walk you to the house at least.”

He should tell her. Tell her that in addition to thinking her the right choice for his wife, she was the choice of his heart. But he couldn’t unstick the words from his throat.

His mother had handed him over to the cruelest person he’d ever known. And his father had forced him into basically being a criminal when he was a child who was too young to object. He’d hang if the world knew he was a bastard who’d taken the title.

They started up the path silently climbing. There w

as so much he wanted to say but with every conversation they got closer to the real darkness he’d so carefully masked his entire life.

She looked over at him several times, but didn’t speak either and they crested the bluff, walking up the drive to the house.

Making their way along the drive, Ash squinted his eyes. “Whose carriage is that?”

Cordelia stopped. She looked into the falling darkness. “Goodness. I don’t know.” Then a small smile touched her lips. “Who knew life was going to get so…interesting. We’d been bumping along so quietly until you all arrived.”

For some reason those words didn’t comfort him at all. Who was this new visitor? Not another lord? “Go inside. I’ll join you in a bit.”

“Join me?” She turned to look at him, a question etched in the corners of her eyes.

“Your father invited me.” He waved his hand. “But I don’t think we should arrive together. Not until I’ve formally asked for your hand.”

She nodded as she slipped her hand from his, making her way not up the drive, but around the back to the kitchen.

He continued meandering his way up the drive and stopped, looking up to the row of balconies along the music room. The doors were open, and the curtains blew softly in the breeze. He could see shadows and glimpses of people as they moved. Their laughter filtered into the night and his heart gave a decided throb. Did he belong with them too? Lord knew he wanted to.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Romancing the Rake Historical