Married By Morning (The Hathaways #4)(91)

“Don’t want to come in?” Leo asked, puzzled.

“No, don’t want to argue.” She lowered her head to her knees again, and gave a muffled sob.

“Christ,” Leo said, his emotions nearly getting the better of him. “Darling love, please, we won’t argue. I promise. Don’t cry.” He took a shuddering breath as Harry handed him the rope, looped with a perfect bowline knot. “Cat, listen to me … lift your head and put your knees down just a little. I’m going to throw a rope to you, but it’s very important that you not reach for it, do you understand? Just sit still and let it fall into your lap.”

She held obediently still, squinting and blinking.

Leo let the loop swing a few times, testing its weight, estimating how much line to allow. He tossed it in a slow, careful motion, but the loop fell short of its mark, bouncing off the shingles near Catherine’s feet.

“You need to throw it harder,” she said.

Despite Leo’s desperation and bone-deep anxiety, he had to bite back a grin. “Will you ever stop telling me what to do, Marks?”

“I don’t think so,” she said after a moment’s reflection.

He gathered up the rope and tossed the loop again, and this time it caught neatly on her knees.

“I’ve got it.”

“Good girl,” Leo said. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Now, put your arms through the circle, and lift it over your head. I want it to go around your chest. Not too fast, keep your balance—” His breath quickened as she fumbled with the loop. “Yes, just so. Yes. God, I love you.” He let out breath of relief as he saw that the rope was in place, fitting just above her br**sts and beneath her arms. He gave the other end of the rope to Harry. “Don’t let go.”

“Not a chance.” Harry quickly tied it around his own waist.

Leo’s attention returned to Catherine, who was saying something to him, her face drawn with a frown. “What is it, Marks?”

“You didn’t have to say that.”

“I didn’t have to say what?”

“That you love me.”

“But I do.”

“No, you don’t. I heard you say to Win that…” Catherine paused, struggling to recollect. “That you would only marry a woman you were certain never to love.”

“I often say idiotic things,” Leo protested. “It never crossed my mind that anyone actually listens to me.”

A window opened in the brothel next door, and an annoyed prostitute leaned out. “There’s girls what’s tryin’ to sleep in ’ere, and you’re shoutin’ fit to wake the dead!”

“We’ll be finished soon,” Leo called back to her, scowling. “Go back to bed.”

The prostitute continued to lean out. “What are you doin’ wiv a girl on the bleedin’ roof?”

“None of your business,” Leo said curtly.

A few more windows opened, and more heads stuck out, with incredulous exclamations.

“’Oo is he?”

“Is she goin’ to jump?”

“Gor, what a filfy mess that would be.”

Catherine didn’t seem to notice the audience they had attracted, her squinting gaze fastened on Leo. “Did you mean it?” she asked. “What you said?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Leo said, straddling the windowsill, holding on to the frame. “For now, I want you to put your hand against the side of the house and step onto the sill. Carefully.”

“Did you mean it?” Catherine repeated, unmoving.

Leo gave her an incredulous glance. “Good God, Marks, do you have to be stubborn now, of all times? You want me to declare myself in front of a chorus of prostitutes?”

She nodded emphatically.

One of the whores called out, “Go on an’ tell ’er, dearie!”

The others joined in enthusiastically. “Go on, luv!”

“Let’s ’ear it, ’andsome!”

Harry, who was standing just behind Leo, was shaking his head slowly. “If it will get her to come in off the blasted roof, just say it, damn it.”

Leo leaned farther out the window. “I love you,” he said shortly. As he stared at Catherine’s small, shivering figure, he felt his color run high, and his soul open with an emotion deeper than he had ever imagined could reside in him. “I love you, Marks. My heart is completely and utterly yours. And unfortunately for you, the rest of me comes with it.” Leo paused, struggling for words, when they had always come so easily to him. But these had to be the right words. They meant too much. “I know I’m a bad bargain. But I’m begging you to have me anyway. Because I want the chance to make you as happy as you make me. I want to build a life with you.” He fought to steady his voice. “Please come to me, Cat, because there’s no surviving you. You don’t have to love me back. You don’t have to be mine. Just let me be yours.”

“Ohhh…” one of the prostitutes sighed.

Another blotted her eyes. “If she won’t ’ave ’im,” she sniffled, “I’ll take ’im.”

Before Leo had even finished, Catherine had gotten to her feet and was creeping to the sill. “I’m coming,” she said.