A Lady of Persuasion (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #3)(104)

“I understand,” he said, stepping toward her.

“No, you don’t,” she insisted, tears stinging her eyes. “You couldn’t possibly understand. You’ve always been happy, always been so loved. You can’t know what it’s like, to see people in pain and feel that suffering, all tangled up with your own. To need some way to channel all that anger into something good … or you’ll simply go mad with it.”

He stretched out a hand. “Darling, please. Let me—”

“And you,” she said, ignoring his hand and leveling a finger at him. “When women flirt with you, I get so angry I could stick them with pins. When men point guns at you, I get so angry I’ll club them with sticks.”

The oaf at her feet began to moan and stir.

“Be quiet,” she told him, “or I’ll do it again.” To Toby she asked, “What did he want, anyway?”

Toby tilted his head and regarded the crumpled figure. “He wanted me to withdraw my candidacy.”

“Oh!” A wild giggle bubbled up from her chest. “That’s what I meant to ask of you, too.” She tapped the man’s shoulder with the toe of her boot. “So sorry.”

“I can’t withdraw my candidacy,” Toby said, frowning, “or Colonel Montague will win.”

“So?” Bel asked.

“So … he’s ancient, deaf, and insane.” Toby crossed his arms. “I can’t allow it to happen, in good conscience. Besides, isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted a husband in Parliament.”

“I wanted you,” she blurted out. Her hand went to her throat. “I wanted you, from the very first moment I saw you. I’ve been pushing you into all these political and charitable roles ever since, so I could pretend I had some nobler cause in mind. But I didn’t. I just wanted you.”

“Isabel …” He came toward her again, arms open.

“No.” She stayed him with an open palm. “I’m not done being angry yet.”

“Oh.” His arms fell. “All right. I’ll just… wait for you to do the embracing, then.”

“That would be best.” She sniffed. “Toby, of all the things and people I’m angry at, I’m most angry at you. I trusted you, and you lied to me. And I understand why you did it, and I can even forgive you … but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. So I’m angry at you for lying, but I’m angrier still at how deeply you’ve made me care.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and she dabbed at them impatiently. “You made me love you, Toby, so much I could hate you for it.” She smothered a sob with her palm. “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

“The part about love?” he asked.

“No,” she choked out through tears. “The part about hate.”

From that very first kiss, he’d made her feel everything—the good and the bad. He brought all her passions to the surface, when she’d worked so long to subdue them. It was infuriating and wonderful and so very frightening. She just didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, he seemed to have an idea.

“I lied,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I lied to you again just now. I’m not going to wait for you to do the embracing.”

His arms went around her, and Bel rested against his strong, solid chest, shedding tears and soot all over his coat.

“Hush, love,” he said, rocking her gently. “It’s all right. Haven’t I told you, time and again?”

He pulled back slightly and tilted her face to his. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

She kissed him. Tightened her arms around his neck, stretched up on tiptoe, and kissed him, in front of everyone. In front of hundreds of gaping spectators, in front of six men with muskets

… good heavens, in front of her brother.

And it was wonderful. Everyone cheered. Even the men with guns.

Well, perhaps not her brother.

“Don’t do this,” she said, between nibbles at his lips. “It’s not too late to withdraw from the race.”

“I have to win,” he murmured.

“No, you don’t. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not you serve in Parliament. I won’t force you into this.”

“I’m not being forced.” Putting some distance between them, he took her hands in his. “I know it wasn’t my original intention, but now I want to serve, for several reasons. It’s my duty as a gentleman of privilege, for one. And I want to honor Mr. Yorke’s legacy, for another. In many ways, he was a father to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bel said. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when he died.”

“I know. I was sorry you weren’t, too—but I knew it was my own fault.” He kissed her hand.

“But Isabel, the largest reason I want to be elected to Parliament is this: I want to do it for you.”

“Haven’t you been listening? You shouldn’t do this for me.”

“Of course I should. I love you, and there’s no better reason to do anything.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He took her in his arms again. “It’s my turn to have my say, all right?”