Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(38)

She swung around again, dropping her valise beside her on the ground. “Why are you following me?” She motioned to the road stretching into the darkness ahead of them. “You’ve a means of transport. Please. Go on your merry way. Don’t let some misguided sense of honor keep you traipsing after me.”

Moonglow washed over the hard lines of his face. “I’m not leaving you alone on this road in the middle of the night.”

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, now you’re full of chivalry?”

He angled his head at her. The pose sent a small frisson of alarm through her. He looked decidedly dangerous in that moment—certainly the most dangerous creature out in these woods.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you earlier tonight. You didn’t even try to send me from your room. In fact, I recall very little was said once you pounced upon me. I must not be so objectionable.”

She flinched at the truth of his words. “Trust me . . . you are beyond objectionable.” She splayed her hands widely in front of her. “There is no word to describe just how objectionable I find you.”

He didn’t look amused. “Go ahead and have your little temper tantrum, Cleo. I’m not leaving. You might as well hop up on my horse and save your feet the ache. We’ll reach the village faster.”

“What is this ‘we’? Understand me when I say there is no ‘we.’ ”

“Damn but you’re stubborn. When are you going to see there’s but one choice for us now?”

She gazed at him uncomprehendingly. Then she looked around her as if the answer lurked somewhere in the dark night. “What choice?”

“You’re thoroughly compromised. The shock of which nearly killed your fiancé. Your only hope is to legitimize us. There will still be talk. No way to quell that. But perhaps you can show your face on the streets of London without being cut direct from every acquaintance to cross your path.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Not that we’ll be here very often. Your family can visit—”

“Have you gone mad?” she interrupted his narrative of their imaginary future, fighting against the sudden prickly tightness in her chest. There had to be another choice.

“I’m quite sane.”

“Was this your scheme?” Gall rose up hot and swift inside her. “Why did you come to my room tonight? Did you arrange all this?” She swept an arm wide.

“Arrange what? The two of us stuck on a road in the middle of the night?”

“My ruin?” she bit out. “Did you plan all this . . . very convenient that everyone should know to walk into my room—”

“I received your note!” He fished a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket.

“I didn’t send you any note.” She took several steps forward and snatched it from his hands. She squinted through the gloom to read the scant words. “I did not write this!”

“I surmised as much. After the fact, of course.”

She shook her head. “Who?”

“Hamilton, of course. How else did he know to show up in your room with Thrumgoodie and Libba in tow?”

Of course. It should have occurred to her sooner. “Hamilton must have been thrilled to see his plan work so brilliantly.” She laughed brokenly.

“What do you find so amusing?”

“We gave them quite the display, did we not?”

Logan was silent for a long moment. The night hummed around them. “It’s obvious we’re drawn to each other . . . the attraction is there.” Her pulse skipped faster. “You. Me.” His voice stroked over her, as deep and endless as the star-studded sky. “It would not seem a horrible alternative.”

She nodded, but the motion made her head ache. It would be both horrible and wonderful. She swallowed thickly. If only the wonderful part did not ultimately lead into the horrible. She’d revel in his bed, in his arms. She felt that in her bones. But then the loss would come. The pain. The sorrow. And yet if she could save her family in the process, stop another brother or sister from dying, it could be worth it . . .

Still unconvinced, she backed away from him in a slow step.

He stared at her with grim understanding. “Yet you still refuse.”

She moistened her lips. “Attraction isn’t everything. It’s scarcely anything. I’ve seen sensible women lose their head over attraction. The price they paid was too high.”

“I’m offering honorable marriage.”

“She was married, too. Still is,” she returned quickly, unable to keep thoughts of her mother at bay. “That only ended up trapping her, keeping her chained and bound forever.”

“She?” His eyes glittered. “You’re speaking of someone specific? Your mother?”

Cleo tightened her lips. She’d said too much. She was not inclined to unburden her personal history upon him. Upon anyone, for that matter.

“Well,” he finally said. “Whoever she was, she certainly made a lasting impression.”

With a sigh, Cleo picked her valise back up and handed it to him.

He hesitated only a moment before taking it from her and attaching it to his saddle.

No sense torturing herself. As he said—the sooner they reached the village, the sooner they could acquire accommodations. And the sooner tomorrow would arrive . . . and she’d be on her way to Town.