Her mouth fell open in surprise and she blinked up at him. “But you said…”
That he was too scarred. He had said that, idiot that he was. “A great many foolish things in my life, but saying I love you isn’t one of them.” He tipped her chin up to meet her gaze directly. “And I will not lose you, my dear. And certainly not because of that.”
“You love me?” She blinked some tears away. “Truly?”
“Completely,” he assured her, though they were words he’d never imagined he’d say to anyone again. “As soon as Chatham said we couldn’t marry, I thought my heart would break at the thought of losing you. If I hadn’t known it before, I knew in that moment that I do love you. I love every single thing about you. The sound of your voice, the sweetness in your eyes, every pretty hair on your head.”
And then she started to cry and Greg smoothed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. His poor, sweet Bella. He wished he could wrap her in his arms and make all the awfulness she’d suffered disappear. He could only imagine how terrible it had been for her growing up under Chatham’s roof. A spineless father, a vanished mother, a tortured brother and a tyrant, overseeing it all.
“He will ruin you, Greg,” she said, worrying her hands in her lap. “He’ll tell everyone what I really am and…”
Was that what she was worried about? Greg threaded his fingers with hers, hoping to soothe her fears “In the first place, I don’t believe he’ll do that. He’d have to publicly cast shame upon his own family to do so. But if he does spread that tale—” he released a sigh “—I never leave Rufford Hall, as it is, my dear. We can stay there forever and nothing he could say or do will ever matter to us, not there.”
“Oh, Greg!” She threw her arms around his neck, and he held her close. They were a long way from where they needed to be, but for the first time in many hours he breathed a sigh of relief.
* * *
Greg prayedSimon would be awake and at home. He wasn’t sure where else he could take Bella if his friend wasn’t around. The hack pulled to a stop and Greg opened the door of the hired conveyance. He hopped to the ground, helped Bella do the same and then retrieved his pistol from the opposite bench before paying the driver for his services.
Bella’s eyes rounded in surprise when she noticed the pistol.
Greg shrugged, just relieved he hadn’t needed to use it. “I wasn’t sure what sort of reception I would receive at Chatham House, and I wasn’t going to be turned away.” He led her up the stoop to Simon’s townhouse. “I never expected to see you climbing down the front of the house like an acrobat.”
“The furthest thing from an acrobat,” she said.
Greg tucked the pistol into his jacket pocket and pounded on the Thurlstone door, silently willing someone to be awake at this hour, and he was pleasantly surprised when a middle-aged butler opened the door a moment later. Either Simon was awake or his servant was still waiting up for him to return.
“I need to see Lord Thurlstone,” Greg said, stepping over the threshold and towing Bella with him before the butler could turn them away. After all, Bella needed to be off the street and safely hidden away before anyone spotted her.
The butler scowled slightly, probably from Greg barging his way into the home. “His lordship is hardly receiving visitors at this hour.”
But a light down the corridor and a set of voices coming from an open doorway said differently. “I’ll just announce myself,” Greg said, tightening his hold on Bella’s hand and leading her down the corridor.
And then an irritated voice filtered into the hallway. “And that is why Staveley never should have left his goddamned library.”
“It’s tragic,” Simon’s voice flowed from the parlor.
“She will never forgive me. Not now. Not for this.”
“Yes, well—”
And then Greg and Bella stood right in the threshold as Simon’s butler came up from behind them and said loudly, “My lord, you have an insistent guest.”
Simon’s gaze flashed toward them, and upon seeing Bella, he pushed out of his seat. “Avery, what a surprise.”
But it was the other man who held Greg’s attention. Damned Haversham again. Twice in one day? Damn it all. What the devil was he doing there?
“And Lady Arabella,” Simon continued smoothly. “You are even more surprising, I must say.”
“Simon, we need your help,” Greg began because time was of the essence. “If you don’t mind granting me a moment.”
“You can have more than one,” Simon returned and gestured to the settee across from him and the malevolent marquess. Then he glanced at his butler and said, “That will be all, Turner.”
The last thing in the world Greg wanted to do was discuss this particular situation in front of Haversham of all the goddamned scoundrels in the world. “In private?” he added.
His friend’s gaze flashed from Greg to Bella and back, then he heaved a sigh. “If you’re in trouble, Greg, and by the looks of it you are—” he tipped his head in Haversham’s direction “—having a Machiavellian mind in the mix can only help. And he is trustworthy, more so than most.”
A ghost of a smile tipped the wicked marquess’s lips as he too pushed to his feet. “If I had to guess, Avery, I’d say you’ve escaped Chatham House and are headed…for Gretna Green.”