Page 57 of Holly & Folly

“It was bound to get out,” she said in a colorless voice.

“It was terribly reckless of me,” Archie said, taking another step toward her.

Her body tensed, so he withdrew, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When he had envisioned this moment, he had pictured it differently—gathering up her hands in his and kissing her even before he spoke. But her demeanor did not welcome such demonstration of feeling.

He clenched his hands, then clasped them behind his back.

She might not wish to marry him, but he had to make her see that it was necessary for her own good. That he would make her as happy as she would allow him to.

“I wish to marry you, Nell.” The words were awkward. Strained, even, for it was so much less than he had planned to say. So much less than he felt. He wanted to tell her how the person meant to provoke his mother had turned into the person he looked for in every room he entered. The one he fell asleep thinking of and woke impatient to see.

But she was silent, her cheeks red and her gaze averted.

Archie could not help himself—he stepped toward her and gathered her hands in his, wishing she would look at him. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The seconds that elapsed before she responded stretched until Archie thought time itself might snap.

She lifted her head until her gaze met his and shook her head.

Seventeen

NELL

The earl’s grip on Nell’s hands went slack.

Nell clenched her teeth until they threatened to shatter. Anything to keep the focus on the physical pain rather than the throbbing of her heart.

“I cannot accept your kind offer, Lord Dalmeer,” she said.

Oh, how she wanted to! The prospect of marrying him enticed her as nothing in her life had. What did it matter if the motives were noble rather than tender?

She had nearly told him yes when he had called her by her name. Not only her name—the one used by those precious few who truly cared for her and had stayed by her side through everything. In spite of everything.

“I don’t…I…” The confusion on his brow and in his eyes tested her resolve even further. “Why not?”

Her throat was too tight for the words she had practiced, though she had hoped she would never need them—that he would not offer for her out of chivalry, as Mr. Fowell had suggested he would.

She forced herself to breathe. When they had made their arrangement, it had been done with full frankness. It was her own fault she had become so attached and certainly that she had allowed herself into a compromising situation yet again.

Would she never learn?

She had thought she could never know pain as she had that night in the inn. She had not slept at all then. She had cried until the tears would not come, but the wracking sobs had continued.

It was a night she had relived many times in nightmares.

But what she felt now rivaled it.

The prospect of being offered marriage out of duty was bad enough. Spending life beside the man she loved while he forever regretted a moment of recklessness in the conservatory was simply unbearable.

Miss Orston was the woman he should be offering for. She could give him everything he wanted—and so much more.

“I think we both know that it is time we ended our arrangement, my lord,” Nell said. “You are under no obligation to me, nor I to you.”

He stared at her, and she forced herself to meet his gaze—to make him understand that he could accept her answer with calm assurance and a conscience free of guilt.

“Let me offer you the protection of my name,” he begged.