The Earl of Davenport: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club #7)(13)

Her eyes flickered up and met his. He was serious. Sweet Lord in heaven, he was serious. “But…” She swallowed. There could be no doubt that he’d heard the rumors surrounding her. Even if it wasn’t commonly whispered among his peers, he’d said the word himself only the day before. “But my reputation is not….” She licked her lips. Oh drat, this was a topic she’d never had to address before. As she’d never been courted, it had never mattered, not to anyone but her. “There are questions surrounding my birth that would tarnish your title.”

Her gaze had lowered as she’d spoken but his soft laughter had her looking up once more.

“Do you really think the Devil of Davenport has a stainless reputation to protect?”

She blinked at him. He really meant it. Shock made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. “But why me?”

Oh heavens, that hadn’t come out right. By the way his eyes danced with laughter, he knew it too. It sounded as though she didn’t value her own worth, and that was not it at all. Licking her lips, she attempted it again. “What I mean to say is, you could have your pick of women. And I have little to offer….”

No, that wasn’t right either. She found herself scowling at his cravat, as she searched for the proper words.

His fingers came to her chin again and once more she found herself looking up at him as he tipped her head back. For the first time since he’d arrived, there was no laughter in his eyes nor teasing in his tone. “Anne, you are the first young woman I’ve met who strikes me as a partner.”

Heat rose in her cheeks at the unexpected compliment. At least, she hoped it was a compliment.

“I can’t imagine any other woman of the ton appearing in my drawing room and insisting I marry their sister, can you?”

She let out a breathless laugh at that. No, she couldn’t. Though how that made her adequate to be a countess was less obvious.

“I admire your loyalty and tenacity,” he said. Once again she was struck by the utter lack of teasing. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him be quite so serious in all her life. A warmth spread through her chest as the words settled into a space she hadn’t known was empty.

With a small grin, he leaned in and added quietly, “You are willful and stubborn when it comes to protecting your family.”

Her heart melted within her chest. No one had ever made “willful and stubborn” sound so lovely.

“Some might even say you are bullheaded,” he added.

“Most wouldn’t find that to be an admirable attribute,” she felt compelled to say.

He lifted one shoulder in an arrogant gesture that said clearly he cared not what ‘most’ thought. “You are kind and empathetic,” he continued, as though now that he’d started rattling off her attributes, he was obliged to finish. “Two traits that are necessary for a countess.”

Her brows rose in surprise. She wouldn’t have thought kindness and empathy would be high on any earl’s list of wifely traits. At her reaction, his eyes warmed. “Well, they are necessary for my countess, at least. My great aunt is no longer able to act as my emissary among my tenants, and I think we all know that I do not possess the diplomatic demeanor necessary for bringing baskets to the sick and whatnot.”

She found herself laughing at the image of the great Devil of Davenport bearing a basket of food and sundries.

“How is your great aunt?” she asked. He seemed surprised by the question but really, he had mentioned her first and Anne had always admired her from afar. She seemed to Anne a shining example of how to withstand the gossips of society with strength and grace.

“She is… not well,” he said slowly. With a small shrug he added, “She is getting old and not recuperating from illnesses as quickly as she once did.”

Anne’s heart squeezed painfully at the flicker of pain she saw in his eyes before it was gone just as quickly. His hand moved down from her chin to her neck before resting on her shoulder. The slight caress made her uncomfortably warm and extremely conscious of the skin he’d just touched. It still tingled as though he’d stroked her with a branding iron and not his hand.

“My aunt is one of the reasons I’ve decided that you would make an excellent wife,” he continued.

The word “wife” coming from those lips made her feel temporarily weightless, and air became difficult to breathe.

“How so?” she asked.

“Because I’ve seen her lead the households and interact with every sort of servant, merchant, and tenant. It requires a woman who can balance strength with empathy, and clear-headed intelligence with devotion and loyalty.”

She found herself staring at him as though mesmerized. Did he really see her that way? The warmth in her chest spread outward, making her feel cozy and content as though she were curled up next to a fire.

He raised both hands and cupped her face between his palms, his fingers hot and firm against her skin. “So, what do you say, Miss Anne? Will you be my countess?”

There really was no choice, was there? By marrying him, she would save her family and their home. She refused to think what her answer would be if her home and family were not at stake.

“Yes,” she said, her voice firm and resolute.

She saw him grin before he lowered his head and sealed the deal with a kiss that left her shaking.