Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(50)

Madeline was silent and curious, waiting for him to continue.

“My father is a tenant on Lord Rochester's estate. Andrew is Rochester's only heir. I grew up with Andrew, and for a while I was allowed to take lessons with him, until I became so unruly that Rochester deemed me a bad influence.”

“I don't believe that.”

Logan smiled wryly. “You didn't know me then. I was a petty thief, a vandal…I prided myself on being the village bully.”

“Why?”

“Youthful rebellion…anger. I resented the fact that there was never enough to eat, that we lived in a hovel…mostly I was angry that no matter what I did, my lot in life was already determined.”

“Yes,” Maddy said softly. “I've felt that way too.”

He gave her a penetrating glance. “I believe you have.”

“How did you become an actor?” Maddy asked, uncomfortable at his scrutiny.

“When I was sixteen, I left home and became an apprentice to a wine merchant in London. I did well enough in that trade and might have continued in it, except that I saw a play at Drury Lane on the night of my eighteenth birthday. That changed everything. I joined a group of traveling players, taking bit parts and learning the rudiments of the craft. Two years later I returned to London to start the Capital. I met Olivia around the same time.” He smiled bitterly. “I thought that marrying her would make up for all the things I'd been deprived of.”

“I see.” Jealousy stung her, and she lowered her eyes to keep it from showing.

“While I was occupied in assembling the theater company,” Logan continued, “I made the mistake of introducing Olivia to Andrew. Evidently she decided that Andrew's title and inheritance were preferable to the uncertain future I offered her. She set her cap for him, not knowing that Andrew had no intention of marrying anyone.”

“How did you find out that they were…” Madeline stopped in consternation, trying to find an appropriate word.

“I found them in bed together.”

“How wicked of them,” she exclaimed, coloring with embarrassment and indignation.

“I thought so too,” he said dryly.

“I don't understand how you could have forgiven them.”

Logan shrugged. “As time passed, I realized that Andrew had done me a favor by showing me what kind of woman Olivia really was. And ultimately I couldn't blame Olivia for wanting more than what I could offer her.”

“She should have been proud and grateful to have won your heart—”

“She saw me for what I was,” he said flatly. “My fortune has been built on entertaining people…exhibiting myself like a trained monkey, as Rochester says. An actor is the servant of everyone who pays for a ticket to see him, wastrels and merchants and nobility alike. Olivia understood that, and she didn't like it.”

He lifted his large hand from her hair and held it before her. “No matter how often I play kings and princes on stage, I'll always be a Jennings. I have the hands and feet of a laborer. A back meant for hauling and ploughing. For that matter, even my face—”

“No,” Madeline said swiftly, her fingers going to his mouth, temporarily silencing him.

He caught at her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm before pulling it away. “You deserve someone better than me. Someone young and idealistic…someone who can experience things for the first time along with you. I'm not always kind, and I have more faults than I'd care to name. All I can promise is that I'll want you until my last breath.”

She realized what Logan was doing, laying bare his soul with a reckless honesty that broke her heart. He wanted her to understand who he was, so that she would have no illusions about him. But none of it mattered to her, not his past and certainly not his profession. He was an extraordinary man who deserved to be loved for himself. So few people had been given that chance. Miserably she thought that it was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done to walk away from him. “Olivia was a fool,” she sobbed. “But not half as much as I am.”

Gently he kissed away the tears on her cheeks. “I don't care who you are or what you've done. Just tell me why you want to leave. Are you in love with this other man?”

“Oh, no,” she said at once, wanting to laugh hysterically at the idea. “It's not that, it's…I promised God that I would go back home if you got well again.”

She felt him smile against her shoulder. “That's not my idea of a good bargain, sweet. Besides, I wasn't consulted.” He lifted his face, and his smile faded as he stared at her. There was an intensity, a hunger in his eyes that made her stiffen. It seemed that the situation had finally slipped from her control. He wanted her, intended to have her, and to her despair, she wanted him so badly that nothing else seemed to matter.

“I love you, Maddy.” His lips raked hungrily over her cheek. “It scares the hell out of me to say that; I've always thought of love as a weakness. I still do. But I can't be with you and not say it…and I can't let you go.” He cupped her head in his large hands and kissed her on the mouth, searching deeply, exploring with a rough tenderness that devastated her. “Let me love you,” he said, his voice turning hoarse. “Let me take care of you.” His mouth crushed hers in sweet, raw need, and he kissed her over and over, until every inch of her skin was suffused with heat.