Living London (18 page)

Amelia scrutinized my face and body, and I could tell she was very concerned, but her expression was one of peace. Lord Heath looked like… well, like Lord Rake as he wore an amused grin that seemed to harbor a delicious secret.

I almost lost courage to glance at Morgan, but as if I had no control over my body, I gazed into the familiar blue of his eyes and my traitorous heart raced. His expression could only be explained as tortured. My heart pinched and shuddered as if preparing for another blow. His eyes seemed to say, "I'm sorry," but it was too little and too late.

Realizing I hadn't spoken but had openly assessed each of my guests, I found my voice, praying it held steady. "Good morning." It only trembled slightly, and I glanced down to prevent any further embarrassment. Only as I stood there in a room with people other than Wains, Libby, and Mrs. Trimbleton did I realize how heavily my self-esteem had suffered, causing me to feel jumpy and timid.

Amelia jumped in to save me. "Jocelyn, I think you need to sit down." She offered me a small smile, and I grabbed onto it like a life preserver. How pathetic that my life had come to this, where a smile was reason for excitement. I kept my eyes downcast as I chose the seat farthest away from Morgan's. Breathing as deeply as possible, I gathered up my courage and glanced up.

As the moment of silence stretched on, I was compelled to speak. "Wains should be in shortly with tea," I offered, trying to play hostess. Thankfully Wains had met me on the way down to the salon and mentioned it might be a good idea. I had thanked him profusely, and his eyes had crinkled in the smallest way. That was probably the closest to a smile I'd ever see from him.

"Thank you, Jocelyn," Amelia said quickly as she shot Morgan a meaningful look. Lord Rake leaned back in his brocaded chair and schooled his expression into indifference, but I could tell he was fighting back a grin. As much as I wanted to draw courage from his mannerisms, I couldn't.

After another moment of awkward silence, I almost lost my miniscule drop of courage and excused myself. It was just too painful being with Morgan, knowing I had made a fool of myself. Adding insult to injury, my "friends" weren't even able to carry on a conversation with me. A tear slid down my nose, and I cursed myself for appearing weak. I wanted to wear the confidence I didn't feel, but I had lost it slowly, inch by inch over the past days with each remark or cut I had endured.

I took a breath to excuse myself, but Morgan interrupted me. "I'm sorry, Joc—" He paused, and continued using my formal address. "Miss Westin. Please," he whispered, agony in each word. "Please know that I had no idea that my…departure would have such an effect on your reputation. Rather, that was the very thing I was endeavoring to avoid through my brief absence. Miss Westin--"

"I understand," I said, surprised by my steady tone as I interrupted his apology. "You're forgiven, Lord Ashby. If you'll excuse me." He was so sincere, and I believed him. As much as I wanted to remain angry with him, I knew that he hadn't meant for this to happen to me. But what was done, was done. Unintentional mistakes carried consequences as well.

I started to rise, but he darted across the room to stop me. "No, I don't think that you do," he continued. "Please hear me out, I beg you. And if you still want to leave, I'll remove myself from your home, and you won't ever be bothered by me again."

I gazed at him, letting his words sink in. His expression was tortured, bereft as his dark eyebrows furrowed over his eyes and once full lips were thinned as he held his breath for my answer. How I had missed him. Those eyes that had shared secrets with me, made me laugh. And yet, they were the same ones that had haunted and rejected me. I didn't want to stay and hear his apologies. I wanted to run. Nothing he could say would erase what happened, the past, nothing. But I also knew I needed to at least hear him out or I'd always wonder.
No regrets.
I could always leave, and I would.

"Very well," I whispered and sat back down. I expected him to go back to his own seat, but he sat next to me instead, sliding his hand down my arm and holding my hand. The sensation awoke feelings I'd have rather forgotten. Never had I been more thankful for gloves as my hand began to sweat at his touch.

"Miss Westin, it seems I have made a mess of… well, everything." He lowered his head and shook it, berating himself. "While I was at my country estate this past week, it wasn't for the reason you were led to believe." He glanced up. His eyes held me captive, trying to convey his sincerity. "I left, Miss Westin, so that I could come back and ask for your hand in marriage."

"What?" Disbelief and confusion overwhelmed me

He took my hand within both of his, caressing my gloved fingers, and I couldn't suppress a slight shiver of delight. But it was short-lived as my fear rose and stomped out any spark of hope.
If that were true, why did he say all those things? Why did he apologize?
My mind whirled over the questions, more confused than ever.

"I didn't leave to get away from you. I left so I could come back and never have to leave again without you. I've always known that if you even gave me the slightest encouragement, I'd do everything in my power to win your hand. When you so bravely, er…" He paused, shooting a glance to a grinning Lord Heath and an absorbed Amelia. "When you displayed your affection for me, I knew I didn't possess the self-control to wait, so I made a rash decision to leave the next day to set all the proper affairs in order that would allow me to take a wife. You."

His eyes were passionate as he spoke, willing me to believe him. He held my hand firmly, as if he were afraid I'd run away and was doing his best to anchor me to the chair. The sensation was comforting. The fortified defenses I'd build began to crumble the slightest bit.

"But… but you… you said…" I couldn't even formulate my words. "Why didn't you tell me? All you said was that you were sorry, you never meant to…" My cheeks heated, but I was too angry to care about our audience. "To put me in
that
type of position and that you were wrong. You asked me to forgive you altogether and bluntly said you were leaving, with a cryptic promise to
fix
it!" I was all but yelling. Ripping my hand from his grasp, I stood up and paced, my fury building.
Of all the insane…
I continued to pace, warming up to my tirade. My heart pounded. The emotions of frustration, hurt and confusion poured out of me in a rush.

"And then, as if I wasn't confused enough, Arynna tells me that you've ruined me, don't want me, and she's going to tell the world. The next morning I discover that she more than made good on her promise. Do you even understand what I've been through? Do you even have a clue as to how I've been treated this past week?" The tears began to fall in earnest, and I wiped them furiously away from my face. "I can't even leave my house!" I shouted. My anger spent, I plopped in a very unladylike fashion onto a nearby chair. "How can people be so cruel?" I sniffed.

Cautiously Morgan walked over to me, but I refused to make eye contact. "I…" he began, fumbling for the right words, "am an idiot."

I huffed my agreement and crossed my arms, not caring that I looked childish. Part of me knew I should run into his arms and forgive him, thanking him for wanting me when I so desperately loved him, but the pain caused me to react rather than think.

"Jocelyn, it kills me to think of what you've gone through this past week. The ton can be cruel, more savage than wild beasts, and worse yet, none of it was deserved. You were never ruined. I was afraid that, especially after telling you the story of how the Viscount had ruined the Wingshire girl and your response of its lack of romance, that you'd doubt the sincerity of my affection if we were discovered in a similar situation." His words were whispered, meant for my ears only. "When I asked you to marry me, I didn't want it to be in the heat of passion, or because we were discovered, but because you wanted me. Only me. Not because you had no other choice," he confessed.

My anger receded from the red haze as I came to understand his actions. It made sense. I
had
said it had been unromantic for the Viscount to take the easy way out. Morgan's logic was clear, and his actions probably wouldn't have mattered as much if Arynna hadn't intervened.

It made sense. Oh, he had botched it up horribly, but I could see his perspective. Hadn't Amelia said as much earlier? Hadn't he confessed his affection before he'd kissed me in the moonlight that fateful night? Scary how one conversation of poorly chosen words can negate so many other affirmations. I was becoming all too aware of the power of a person's words.

"Please, Jocelyn, say something." I had been staring at the wall as my mind whirled, completely silent.

I blinked hard and turned to look at him. "It makes sense," I whispered finally.

"But?" he added after a moment, dread and resignation killing the light in his eyes.

"But, what can I do about it now?" I asked, hopeless. "What's done is done." Oh, how I'd wished he'd sweep me up in his arms, but I didn't see how my happy ending could happen. Everyone already believed Arynna's lie, and if Morgan married me now, well, it wouldn't look authentic. Wouldn't that be difficult for his family? I was still so confused.

"Oh, I think there's quite a bit one can do, actually," said the silky voice of Lord Heath. I had almost forgotten about his presence in the room. "But our plan of attack all depends on you, Miss Westin."

"Plan of attack?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow. His words had certainly piqued my curiosity.

"Yes. First, Ashby here needs to ask you an important question, during which I will escort my fiancée out the door so she can give you some semblance of privacy. Although I won't be able to prevent her from listening through the door," he added with a grin.

Amelia glared at him and then came over to me, placing her gloved hand on my shoulder and making eye contact. "Sometimes love has to conquer in order to survive. But conquer it will, if given the opportunity." She squeezed my shoulder and left with Lord Heath, leaving me quite alone with Morgan.

Afraid to hope, to open myself up to further pain, my heart locked down. It must have been apparent on my face.

"Please, Jocelyn, don't do that." Morgan spoke softly, reaching up and tilting my chin up so I would look him in the eye. His fingers were warm; the heat seeped through my skin and melted the pain in my heart. In a sincere tone, he continued. "I know I do not deserve you. I've put you through the fire the past week. I would have been here sooner, but things took longer than I expected."

I opened my mouth to ask why he hadn't sent a letter, but he interrupted my attempt. "I knew I'd make it back before a note could reach you." He dropped his head lower to meet my eyes, diving into their depths like a starving man. "If I would have simply asked for your hand that night, you wouldn't have gotten hurt, but I wanted it to be romantic, something you could remember for years to come. So you would know how much I desperately, urgently, and greatly love you." He lifted his other hand and caressed my cheek, wiping the tears I didn't realize had fallen. After closing his eyes for a moment, he met my gaze once again. "Not a proposal that made you wonder if I simply asked you in a haze of lustful frenzy. You deserved — deserve more than that. So much more."

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. My eyes closed in response. I breathed in the honey and cloves scent that I had missed so much, drinking in the sensation of his warm lips pressed to my skin. I reached up to pull the lapels of his coat, tugging him closer to me. He let out a small chuckle before touching his forehead to mine. "So, now that I've hardly any right to ask, and after I've caused horrific damage in my efforts to be poetically romantic, I want to tell you all the things I should have said."

With that, he dropped to both knees and gazed adoringly at me. His eyes were so blue, but they held little hope, only a fierce determination and unabashed love. "Jocelyn Westin, I love you. There is no other woman I could imagine as my wife. I do not deserve you. You are perfection. Everything about you draws me like a moth to the flame, and when I touch you, I burn." His eyes smoldered and my knees went weak. "I promise to make up for my painful mistakes every day of my life for as I long as I live if you'll give me the opportunity to serve you." He stood slowly. "Cherish you." He raised his hand to caress my cheek and wipe away another tear. "Honor you." His other hand came around my waist and pulled me closer till I could feel his heartbeat. "Protect you." He bent his head and kissed the skin under my ear with a feather light touch. I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh. "Kiss you," he whispered into my ear as he nipped my earlobe. "Make love to you."

He brushed a short yet tender kiss across my lips. I desperately wanted more, but I didn't want to interrupt the moment. "Spend each day in your warmth and grow old with you, satisfied that you're mine and mine alone." He kissed me again, deeper, searchingly, with barely controlled restraint. "Marry me, Jocelyn?" he asked, and pulled back slightly to read my expression. His eyes were darkened with desire and frantically searching mine for the answer he so desperately sought.

"Yes," I whispered, my breath stolen by the exultant expression on his face and reflected in his eyes. "Yes," I repeated a bit louder, my smile breaking free and my heart melting in the heat of his hungry gaze.

His lips met mine in a fierce kiss that reminded me of the joy and fever I had all but forgotten in the past week. His hands gripped my back, pulling me savagely against him. My body caught fire at the sensation.

"Jocelyn," he whispered hoarsely before attacking my lips again, pulling them gently with his teeth and caressing them with his velvet tongue.

I dug my hands into his hair, but my gloves prevented me from feeling the silky texture on my fingers. My hands moved from his hair to his broad shoulders and pulled him in closer. Matching his fervor, I kissed him back and inhaled each breath he released, wanting each part of me to be a part of him.