How to Marry an Earl (A Cinderella Society 1)

He looked surprised. “Freedom?”

“I was in danger of being permanently on the shelf, you see. But I didn’t mind. My parents, however, minded quite a lot. They worried I was too enamored of digging in the fields. It was all right for my father, but not for me. Not for a young lady who ought to be swoony over young men in starched cravats and counting proposals instead of bones. They wanted me to stop digging.”

“What happened?”

“I did turn down three marriage proposals.” She half-smiled. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“I like you like this,” he said easily. Warmth spread under her collarbones. “But I liked you then, as well. I assume all of this happened while I was away?”

“Yes. Two of the offers were from men more than twice my age and the other, while only a year older, was obviously planning to carry on as if he wasn’t married.”

“Not unusual.”

“No. But not good enough, either. If I’m to give up everything, I deserve something in return. And more to the point, he had already suggested several hobbies more appropriate than collecting and studying the past.”

Conall’s smile flashed. “I bet you set him right.”

“I did.”

“I’d have loved to have seen it.”

“It wasn’t enough though. So, I made a choice. An exchange. Ruination for freedom.” It hadn’t been easy, and probably a bit more impetuous than it should have been. She didn’t regret it though. Well, not most of it. “It worked well enough though my parents were furious.” She paused, remembering her mother’s shock, her father’s face, white lines etched around his mouth. The shouting. And then worse still, the silence. “And then they died a year later, and it was for naught.”

He took her hand. “I’m sorry.” His thumb rubbed gentle circles over her knuckles. She’d had no idea knuckles could be so sensitive. “But he left you Halcyon House. Your father might not have thought of it if you hadn’t forced his hand.”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re very brave.”

She pursed her lips. “Hardly. I scandalized a few aristocrats. Not even scandalized for they’ve all done far worse than I. But it was my refusing to hide what I’d done which infuriated them. You went to war. That’s brave.”

“I went to the battlefield, after the fact. It’s not the same thing. They don’t generally let earls fight. Anyway, there are many ways to be brave. You decided what it was you needed, and you took it. Even if it meant turning your back on society. Very few people have the nerve to do that.”

“Henry said I was a pea-brain, not brave.”

“Is that why didn’t you choose him for your plans? Would you have, had he been here?”

“Henry?” she asked, surprised. “Definitely not. He’s like a brother.”

“I find myself relieved to hear it.”

“Y-you are?” Conall lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles again. It tickled, awakening a responding ticklish feeling in her belly. When he looked up at her, eyes flaring, she felt suddenly like a banquet, lush and desperately needed. It was intoxicating.

He rose to his feet, tugging her up with him. Her breath caught in her throat. “I should go,” he whispered against her skin, eyes still locked on hers.

He was going? Now? Was he trying to turn her inside out?

He bowed sharply and turned away, striding toward the balcony.

“Wait,” she said, surprising herself.

He froze but did not turn back. The light gilded his strong legs and back, the curl of his hair at his nape. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she asked, not understanding. Then it hit her. He was too much of a gentleman to want to have to turn her away. Being brave and being wanted were two entirely different things. It was a meaningless flirtation. It only sounded true because she wanted it to be. A hard ball of hurt and humiliation stuck in her throat.

“If you ask me to stay, I won’t be able to say no,” he added softly.

“I understand,” she said, trying to sound calm, unruffled. “I don’t expect anything from you, Conall. And I did warn you. My reputation is hard to ignore.”