Lord Garson’s Bride (Dashing Widows 7)
She didn’t smile back. “We both know your life will be simpler if I come back to you.”
“So while you believe I’m over Morwenna, I haven’t persuaded you that I love you instead?”
“Not yet.”
“Kiss me, and I’ll show you.”
“It will take more than few kisses to convince me,” she said, fearing she cut off her nose to spite her face.
His brief spark of humor faded, until he looked as austere as a Crusader knight on a tomb. “I know I’ve put you through hell. I’ve wronged you in so many ways that I can never atone for. I’ve been confused and destructive and bloody stupid. But, Jane, if I love you and you love me—or at least I hope you do—do you really mean to desert me and condemn us both to misery?”
She bit her lip. He sounded like he meant it. He looked like he meant it. With every word, she became more convinced that against all the odds, he had changed. She’d been agonizingly lonely and unhappy. This chance at a happy ending struck her as too unlikely.
Joy started to unfurl like a banner in her chest. But she wasn’t yet ready to wave it to the skies to announce her victory. Her voice cracked. “I can’t bear it if you’re only being kind.”
“Bloody hell!” he burst out, cutting the air with his hand. “When have I ever knowingly lied to you?”
She looked away toward the curtained window, but the image of his anguish remained burnt on her eyes.
“Jane, my darling, I’ll do anything to prove myself to you.” He went on, the beautiful baritone a low rasp. “Just give me another chance.”
Shocked, she glanced back at him. He looked like a man at the limits of his endurance. He looked like one word of rejection from her could destroy him.
Perhaps he did love her after all.
Joy broke free of the bonds of mistrust and past unhappiness. She swallowed. Then swallowed again as she forced out a response. “Hugh, if this turns out to be a trick, I’ll put poison in your coffee.”
It took him a moment to register that she’d yielded, if not in so many words. His uncertainty lingered for an instant, then the wretchedness faded. His face lit with such transcendent happiness, tears pricked at Jane’s eyes. “You forgive me?”
“Mostly.”
He strode forward until mere inches separated them. “And you’ll come back to me?”
She tilted her chin and met his gleaming eyes. “Yes.”
“And you believe I love you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” She hadn’t, until she saw his reaction to her grudging concession. Love still lit his face to brilliance. She’d never imagined Hugh would look at her like this. After the last despairing months, it beggared her understanding.
He placed his hands on her waist. “And you love me?”
She sighed. “I suppose I must.”
His thick brows lowered. “Jane.”
She flattened her palms on his chest. Under her touch, his heart thudded madly. The fact gradually sank in that he’d given that ardent heart over into her keeping. “Yes, I love you, Hugh.”
His lips twitched, and he started to look more like himself, instead of the desperate ruffian who had arrived in such a state half an hour ago. “Say it with some enthusiasm.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Don’t push your luck, sir.”
With a broken laugh, he gathered her up against him. “By God, I’ve missed your teasing.”
After weeks of feeling so cold, the warmth of his embrace made her feel alive again. Their lips met in a kiss unlike any she’d known before. Because for the first time, she set her love free, and it flew to find its match in Hugh’s love for her.
By the time he raised his head, tears poured down her face, and her arms curled around his neck. He regarded her with the tenderness that had always been there. Now she recognized that glow in his eyes as an abiding love that would sustain her for the rest of her life.
He caught her face between his palms. “Jane, darling, why are you crying?”