Halstead.
With a few short steps I crossed the room, my heart pounding. I clasped my hands behind my back to hide their trembling.
He turned, his gaze meeting mine, far too close for me to keep my composure. “Juliet.” He shook his head, one brow raised. “Why did you not come to me for help?”
I stood immobile. Emotion choked me, rendered me unable to get out a single word. The air between us grew thick. “I had no right, no claim on you. Not after I’d agreed to marry Robert.”
“Do you love him?”
I could do nothing but shake my head.
“Then, why?”
There was a multitude of questions in that simple query, and I was prepared to answer none of them. But he deserved to know. “My aunt,” I managed before emotion got the best of me. “She threatened to send Harry to sea unless I married Robert. I could see no other way to protect him—”
“I should have known.” Halstead reached out a hand, his fingers just inches from my face. “You left before I had a chance to stop you.” He swallowed, the cords in his throat taut. “But you’d wounded what little pride I had left, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go after you.”
I sagged against the captain’s desk. “Then, why are you here?” My voice broke.
“Because I’d have been a fool not to go after the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He inched closer, resting on his cane.
For a moment I basked in his words, in what they might mean. But the briny smell of the sea sat sharply in my nose, and the sound of boots slapping the planks above made my past impossible to forget. We were from two different worlds. The truth dug into me, giving way to my doubts. I’d already come to terms with the reality of the situation, and this conversation would only prolong the pain. “Please, Halstead. Don’t.”
He made a low noise of disapproval. “Don’t what? Demand the truth? The matter is simple, Juliet. Do you love me?”
A lump rose in my throat, threatening to cut off my air supply. I nodded.
“Then, marry me.” His voice was rough with emotion.
“I cannot.” I forced strength into my words and tried to step away, but my back was against the desk. “I can’t begin to express my gratitude for what you’ve done for me. For Harry. I certainly didn’t deserve it after . . .” My knees locked, unease coiling down in the pit of my stomach. “But don’t you see? Here. Right here. This is where I come from. My father was a sailor. And you”—I waved a hand toward him—“you are a duke. How can you possibly expect . . . ? I cannot walk into a London ballroom on your arm.”
Aunt Agnes’s words resounded in my head, years of complaints about the embarrassment of our low connection. The very situation we were in only proved her point. And for a duke . . . I shook my head. “We can have no place together.” Hot tears burned my eyes, and I gulped back a sob.
The intensity of his stare shook me, but I could not deviate. I pressed a hand against the pain forming in my abdomen, trying to keep it at bay.
He heaved out a breath of frustration. “So that is it, then? Your father and mother were free to pursue their happiness, but you are not free to pursue yours?” Halstead took a step closer, and I shut my eyes, fearful I had not the power to withstand his proximity.
“If you think it doesn’t cost me, you are wrong.” The hand against my belly clenched into a fist around the fabric, wrinkling my dress.
“Then, set aside whatever ill-conceived notions you have about what a future with me would be like.” The back of his knuckles brushed against my collarbone. “We could be happy, Juliet, if only you’d let us.” His deep voice slid over me like liquid amber.
My determination grew weak under such an assault, and I opened my eyes. “And what of your mother? Your grandmother?”
“And what of your aunt? And every gossipmonger in London? Is everyone to have a say in our future? Our happiness?”
I had no words. His own had pushed through my defenses, everything I’d ever told myself about why we could never be together. “One of the disadvantages of arguing with a duke is how unwilling he is to take no for an answer.” I shook my head, letting out a short laugh. “But Halstead, I could not bear for people to whisper about you and me, to judge you harshly for loving me.”
Silence pulsed for a heartbeat.
One side of his mouth tipped up in amusement. “One of the advantages of marrying a duke is that you no longer have to care what people think.”
For as much as I felt, I couldn’t help but laugh, though tears filled my eyes.
“They will judge me harshly no matter what,” he said finally, his voice thick. “And what of me? Fiend seize it, Juliet, I love you. I wish to marry you. Must I get down on my bad knee to show you? Heaven knows I will.”
Such words. Such passion and earnestness. I fought within myself to remember logic despite the rising heat in my middle. He stepped forward, and at once his mouth was on mine, his kiss firm and demanding. Before I could stop myself, I was on my tiptoes, kissing him back, my hand on his chest. Slow heat coursed through my limbs, and still I battled. He urged me closer, one hand on my back, the hint of stubble on his chin rasping against my skin. And in that moment I felt the force of his love.
Halstead loved me.
The thought was as dizzying as my lack of air. I pulled back, gasping,
