The Suffragette Scandal (Brothers Sinister #4)(73)

“That’s because I was wrong. A desperation to possess at any cost—that’s not love.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss against her lips. “This is.”

The kiss felt like a slow awakening, a sensation of warmth, a steady glow that enveloped the two of them.

But she drew away from him. “Edward. I—”

He set his finger on her lips.

“No. Don’t say it. It’s hell enough realizing that I want only to protect you from harm.” His voice dropped. “That I’m the one who will hurt you.”

She shook her head. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. I know you better than that.”

He smiled sadly. She didn’t.

“One of these days, you’ll understand,” she said. “I love you, scoundrel and all. And I’ve known you could never hurt me. Ever since that same day.”

He kissed her again. “Tell me that tomorrow.”

It was particularly sweet—stomach-churningly sweet—when she nodded her head.

“I will. And the next day, and the day after, and the day after. I’ll tell it to you day after day, night after night, until finally you believe it’s true.”

FREE AWOKE IN THE MIDDLE of the night in a cold sweat, flailing her arms, trying to escape—

“Shh,” she heard Edward say. “Shh. Free. It’s all right.”

Her heart was racing away from her. Her mouth was dry, and it took her a moment to understand that she was in bed with her husband of…several hours, not being held in place, not tied down in a government hospital.

Her pulse slowed. Her muscles loosened. She let out a long, slow breath.

“You’re safe,” Edward said. “I have you.”

“It was only a nightmare.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“Of course it was,” he said. “And now I’m only holding you.” He folded his arms around her. “See how that works?”

Marrying him had been impulsive and foolhardy. She hadn’t even had a chance to inform her family of her marriage—and after she told them, there’d be many explanations demanded.

But if they could just see this, just feel this moment—the warmth of his arms around her, the comfort of his touch, those cold fears washing out of her as he stroked her face—why, they’d all understand why she’d done it.

The morning would bring a demonstration, a reunion with Amanda, and a trip to gaol—but it would also bring him. And once everyone she loved grew to know him, they’d understand. Edward was the best thing she could ever have impulsively grabbed for.

Chapter Nineteen

“I’M SO GLAD YOU COULD spare a few moments,” Genevieve said.

The morning had dawned crisp and cool, with scattered clouds obscuring the summer sun for once. Amanda shifted a bag on her shoulder and smiled at Genevieve.

“Of course I did,” she said. “Don’t I always?”

Always. It was hard to remember that always, when it came to Genevieve, meant only a handful of months. They now met when Amanda came into town, and at this point, that meant they saw one another nearly twice a week. It seemed as if they’d known each other longer than that.

Amanda caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the side table. It had taken her months to learn not to wince and look away from her own reflection, and there were times…

“Ah, ah,” Genevieve said.

Amanda looked at her. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Just noticing that I still have ink stains on my fingers.”

“Those,” Genevieve said loftily, “are more by way of a badge of honor than a stain. They’re war wounds.”

Amanda couldn’t help but smile. But there was the rub: the more comfortable Genevieve made her feel, the more uncomfortable she grew. Weeks of becoming familiar with Genevieve’s sly, understated sense of humor—and trusting that Amanda was not the butt of it—had helped ease her sense of awkwardness.

And yet Genevieve was still as lovely as ever, sweet as ever, and…sadly, as innocent as ever. Hence Amanda’s dilemma.

“I can’t stay long today.” Amanda indicated her bag. “I’ve the demonstration to attend, and everything will only become more complicated from there on. There’s the possibility that I’ll be arrested, and…”

Genevieve interrupted her with a hand on her arm. “That’s precisely the reason I asked you to come this morning. You see, I know some ladies who would like to participate in the demonstration. I thought we might all walk to the park together.”

Ladies. Amanda tensed. As if to emphasize what Genevieve meant, a burst of laughter—light and airy—came from the other room.

Amanda had been doing better since that first gathering back in April. She’d even gone to a handful of small parties since then—ones where she was sure her family would not be in attendance. Still, she’d always needed time to steel herself before going out in company. Today, she wasn’t sure she had the extra energy to make the effort.

“Oh, Genevieve.” She shook her head. “I’m on edge enough. You know how I feel about this sort of thing.”

She expected Genevieve’s face to fall, for her to be disappointed. Instead, the other woman looked at her, her eyes shining with determination. “I’ve planned this for over a month. I’m not letting you walk away.”