“Yet you’ll suffer no consequences, nor will you be shunned by society for this indiscretion.” She snuffled into the linen square, and when the crisp, clean scent of him hit her nose, her tears fell even harder. “Oh, this is impossible,” she whispered, refusing to look at him. “I don’t know what to think, and now I know why you’re really here.” Another wail erupted from her, and she pressed the handkerchief to her cheeks. She knew what would come next, and she didn’t want it.
“It’s a pregnancy, Isobel, not a death sentence.” Once more he took possession of her hand. When she tried to pull it away, he tightened his hold. “If you’re afraid, please talk to me. Perhaps I can set your mind at ease.”
“This changes everything.” She dabbed at the moisture on her face. “I don’t like change.” That brought another round of heavy tears. “And I don’t like that you’re here because of this.”
“I’ve been here since you were brought home. Haven’t left your bedside, in fact.”
Now that she looked closer at him, she discerned the shadow of stubble clinging to his jaws and chin, noted how rumpled his clothing looked, as well as the loosened way his cravat fit. How dreadfully unfair was it that he looked like sin and scandal, while she was in a bandage and bed, being told she’d soon grow wide as a barge with a babe in her belly?
“Oh. You can go, then. As you can see, I’m well enough.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Though the words sent more flutters down her spine, she sniffed. “Tell me why this news upsets you as much as my presence.”
Drowning in emotions she couldn’t sort nor control, she blurted, “Because you’ll want to marry me out of obligation, and I don’t want a man like that.” Isobel paused to wipe at an influx of new tears. “I’ll be a burden and you’ll come to hate me.”
“I wouldn’t.” His thumb slid over her knuckles, soothing, quieting… exciting.
“You would. You’d resent that you were forced into a marriage to a woman who would continue to bring nothing but shame and scandal to your name.” She shook her head. The braid on her shoulder stank of mud, sweet, and vomit. Her stomach dry-heaved as she threw the hair over to her back. “You’d always wonder if you could have done better had you not trysted with me.” Her voice broke on the last word along with another torrent of tears.
“That’s not true.”
She huffed and wiped her streaming nose. “You put an end to our affair because I wasn’t good enough for you and your lofty new status.”
His eyes narrowed. “I seem to recall you saying that you’d never marry a man with a title the first time we walked in Hyde Park. We both have a few issues to work out.”
“I haven’t changed my mind about that.” She looked at her right hand where her mother’s ruby ring still rested. “If I became your wife, and you only ask me due to this child, once you beget your heir and a spare, we’ll drift even further apart. It’s the way of marriages in the beau monde.”
“My parents weren’t like that. Their union was held together by love for the entirety, and as far as I know, my father never strayed.” He tightened his hold on her left hand. “You only need to look about and find the good ones instead of concentrating on the bad ones.”
Oh, she refused to let him rout her with logic. Isobel shook her head. For the moment, her tears had stemmed. “Beyond that, there are other worries.”
“Such as?”
Another wave of panic welled in her chest. “I’m afraid I’ll be a terrible mother. Just look at the horror my family is.” The urge to cry returned. “My father sent Caroline away due to his and Mother’s inability to understand her. Cousin Andrew’s father and mine fought so much about what the Storme family should do that it tore a huge rift between them. And they’re only now learning how to live with their emotions. I don’t want to add my mess to the melee.”
“Ah, Isobel, don’t you know that you already have?” Royce’s laugh both comforted her and set her teeth on edge with aggravation.
“Do shut up.” She hurled a pillow at him, and then bit back a groan when the bruises on her arm ached.
He easily caught the pillow and tossed it to the foot of her bed. “Sweeting, look closer at the Stormes. Every one of them—excepting Caroline of course—have managed to make their lives work and succeed despite the obstacles and terrible beginnings.” He smiled at her in that certain way he had that sent tiny fires into her blood. “That speaks volumes to the people they’ve put into their lives, as well as the wives they’ve chosen.”
“Perhaps.” She wasn’t ready to concede defeat. One truth shimmered more brightly than all others. “I never wished to marry, Royce. You know that.”
“Actually, you said you never wanted to marry a man with a title.”
“Yes, because I’ll fail miserably at being a countess.” Her hands shook from fear, so she quickly clasped them in her lap. “The thought of it takes my breath away, and I don’t like that feeling.”
A teasing grin flirted with his sensual lips. Her gaze dropped to his mouth for half a second. Oh, why couldn’t he just kiss her and forget about all this serious talk? “You’re awfully certain I want to marry you.” He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t.
“What?” Shock speared through her chest as she stared at him. “You’d let me flounder in scandal as my belly swells and the whole of society casts me out?”
“I’m sure your cousin would send you to Derbyshire. How bad could it be?”
“Quite.” The prospect of having to raise an infant alone felt like a weight had been set upon her chest. “I detest the country.”
“Is there anything you do like, besides courting scandal?” When she didn’t answer, he stood and then resettled on the side of her bed. His shirt was open slightly at the placket beneath his messy cravat, and the glimpse of red curly hair on his chest made her catch her breath. Tremors of need made themselves known between her thighs. “We’re both aware that I can’t escape the title, but if you’re adamant about it and truly cannot see yourself with me because of it, I can renounce the earlship. The outcry through the powers-that-be will prove enormous, and I’d be the first Worchester in history who couldn’t come up to the mark.” He looked a tad green about the mouth about it, but the determination in his eyes held her captive. “That would mean the responsibilities of the earl would fall to Trey, and I can’t, in good conscience, give him that cross to bear after everything he’s already survived in the war.”
That’s so much!For the second time that evening, Isobel’s lower jaw dropped. She gawked at the man beside her. “You would give up the title for me?”