To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

So he kept the conversation on her. “I seem to remember you saying you didn’t have anyone in your life that you cared about. But if I’m not mistaken, I hear at least a little fondness in your voice for your Uncle Felix.”

She smiled up at him. “It’s true. And now that you’ve learned my secret, I might have to shoot you.”

“No need. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

He saw her smile turn softer. Sadder. “I know you are.” And then she tucked her chin back in and curled up next to him where she spent the rest of the night.

The night was bitter cold, and the roof was a hard and uncomfortable seat, but neither of them minded. Rose seemed just as content to remain there with him as he was to be with her. They traded stories of childhood. He learned how to remove a man’s pocket-watch during a dance—though he didn’t think he would ever have the chance to try out his newfound skill—and he taught Rose how to ball up her fist to throw an effective punch without breaking her thumb.

Every new detail he learned, every smile he received, every time she leaned into him a little more, felt like a gift. He loved her in a way that he hadn't thought would be possible for him again. And now that he had it, he could never let it go. Could never let her go.

But did she want that too? Would she stay if he asked? Would she let him love her? He may never be whole again, but he could make sure that Rose was. He would spend the rest of his days carefully removing the splinters in her heart if she would let him.

The golden peaks of dawn tiptoed over the horizon. Had they really spent the entire night like this? He looked down at the woman who was almost asleep on his chest. He could hear her heavy breaths and feel her shoulders expanding and releasing and knew she was slipping into sleep. Nothing in him wanted to disturb her. But he had to. He needed to walk her back to her door before anyone else in the house woke up and discovered them.

Absolutely nothing inappropriate had taken place between them that night. Unfortunately, not even a stolen kiss. Blast his promise of saintliness. But still, he didn’t want to set Rose’s name—or Daphney’s—on the servant’s tongues. If she stayed and became his wife as he hoped, he wanted it to be by her own choice, not by his family’s force or because of a scandal. He wanted to give her the freedom to make choices in her life based on her own desires and not a governing circumstance.

He stroked the loose waves that had fallen against her cheek and moved them back behind her ear. “Rose.” It was the first time he had called her by her given name. She made an adorably sleepy hmm noise that made him smile. “What if I asked you to stay?” He released the words and felt the lightening of his heart. The rightness of what he had just asked.

Rose took in a deep breath and held it for a moment as if she was turning the question over in her mind and wondering if

she had just heard him correctly. She finally adjusted to sit up and look at him. She was all golden and morning and light and happiness and everything that he wanted in his future.

“What do you mean?” she asked, squinting against the heaviness in her eyelids from a night spent awake.

He smiled as he traced the lines of her waves tumbling over her shoulder. “I mean that I love you.” He reached up and ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “And I don’t want you to leave—ever. I want you to let me tell my family the truth and have you join our family as Rose and not Daphney.”

Rose bit her lips together as tears pooled in her eyes. “Carver…are you proposing to me?”

He wiped a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. “Yes, I am.”

Her breath increased as he held his own. “I told you not to fall in love with me,” she said sounding almost desperate.

“I know.”

She looked up at the gold and pink sky, trying to blink away her tears. “I’m a con woman, Carver. I’ve stolen from a lot of people.”

“I know.”

“And…I don’t even know the first thing about being a countess.” She laughed without amusement. “Or a duchess for that matter.” She shook her head and her brows were pulled together. “I don’t deserve to be your wife.”

He cupped her face in his hands and looked in her eyes. “That is definitely not true. And you don’t have to be a thief anymore, Rose. I can take care of you, if you’ll let me.” He knew what he was asking of her. “And my mother can teach you everything you need to know about holding the title of a duchess, and my father will love you like his own.”

She swallowed and tears were still escaping from her uncertain eyes. “I’m not sure I know how to be cared for.”

“I know,” he said again and smiled. “I’ll show you.”

The silence tugged and twisted between them. Rose’s gaze burned into his, making them somehow feel both connected forever and also moments away from potential fracture. He wanted to kiss her more than anything, to show her that he loved her in a tangible way. But he knew the decision was already difficult enough for her and wanted to give her emotions the respect they deserved without adding any further complications.

“Can I think about it?” she finally said into the quiet.

No. “Yes, of course. Take all the time you need.”

But tell me now. Say yes.

He felt a desperation that he hoped to God he didn’t show. He needed to be strong. He needed to prove to her that he was secure without her. That he would be a dependable strength for her to lean on, even if he wasn’t so sure himself.

She leaned in and laid a soft kiss on his cheek. The sensation sent a wave of heat and hope through his entire body. “Thank you, Carver,” she said. “For everything.”