He smiled as he said it, and her breath caught, just as it had every time she’d seen that expression on his face. That was why he did it, because his smile belonged to her. She had inspired more of it in less than a month than he’d probably allowed himself to show in the last ten years.
“Imogen,” he whispered as he caught her hand and drew her closer to him. “I love you. That terrifies me because love has rarely ended well for me. But when I look at you, I can’t deny it any longer. I can’t lose you. Please don’t accept this plan—you would be in such danger.”
She placed each hand on his chest and leaned into him, lifting her face, brushing his lips with hers. He wrapped his arms around her, drowning in her, surrendering fully, loving her with all his heart. He was rewarded with such joy, such pleasure, such warmth he had never felt.
She pulled away at last, gazing up into his face. “I love you, too,” she said.
His breath shuddered out. If he’d thought the pleasure of loving her was amazing, this was even better. He’d hoped, he’d prayed into the night, offering trades of everything he had if she might feel even a fraction of what he did. And here they were. She asked for nothing, but offered everything.
She sighed softly and reached up to cup his cheek. “I love you,” she repeated. “And that is why I need to fix this. Because if I don’t, we can’t have a real future together. You’ll have to give up too much, I’ll have to give up too much. We’ll start with suffering, not joy, and I don’t want any more of that than either of us has already experienced in our lives.”
He pulled away a fraction and ran a hand through his hair. “Imogen…I hear what you’re saying. But surely there must be another way than to throw yourself into the path of an evil villain.”
She nodded. “There might be. Perhaps in six months or a year or ten years we could find a way to manage Roddenbury that doesn’t involve a direct confrontation to end it all. But that isn’t what I want. I want to start my next chapter with you tomorrow, not when it’s too late to enjoy it.”
He frowned, thinking of his mother and Will. They could have had a lifetime of love if she’d allowed it. Instead it had been diverted, put off. That wasn’t sad, exactly…but it had been avoidable.
He set his jaw. “I worry.”
“But you’ll be there,” she whispered. “We’ll demand it. Because we’re doing this together. I trust you. And you…you trust me, don’t you?”
“I do,” he insisted.
“This is the only way. The best way to not only save me, but anyone else in this man’s path. The only way I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing I tried all I could to stop him.” She took his hands and lifted one to her lips, kissing it gently. “Will you be at my side?”
“Yes,” he said.
She smiled. “Then let’s call in the others and make the next step to the rest of our lives.”
She moved as if to go to the door, but he held her steady. He cupped her cheeks, looking down into her eyes and memorizing every beautiful line of her face. He brushed his lips to hers, gently, carefully, before he fully claimed her mouth once more. She lifted into him, opening to him, merging them together until they were one being, one heart.
When he pulled away, he didn’t feel excited by this decision. But he also had faith that they could survive it. They had to. There was no longer another choice. He just hoped neither of them would come to regret whatever happened next.
Chapter 24
Imogen paced her small parlor back at her home, straightening items on the table, as if somehow that could bring order to her fluttering heart. She hadn’t been in her house for weeks and it felt like a foreign land. Even more so because her own servants had not been brought back from the paid holidays Oscar had bankrolled weeks ago.
Instead, her staff was replaced by agents, some of the same ones who had staffed the safe house. Even in this moment, Molly, the maid who had helped Imogen the last two days, was smiling at her.
“You needn’t worry, Mrs. Huxley,” she soothed. “The others are positioned all over the house. The Duke and Duchess, as well as Mr. Fitzhugh, can hear us through the holes we drilled for just that purpose. And Mr. Huntington and Mr. Barber are at the ready in the yard. They’ll take positions near the windows, ready to come in if there’s trouble.”
“Yes, and I know you are armed.” Imogen forced a shaky smile as Molly patted the holster hidden in her boot for easy access. “And so is Tidwell.”
“I am, Mrs. Huxley,” the butler called out from the hall. “But I see a carriage coming into your drive, so you must ready yourself.”
Molly nodded toward her and then stepped from the room, leaving Imogen to pace across the floor and peek out the window. She watched as Roddenbury exited the carriage. And at his side was Maggie, the woman who ran the Cat’s Companion.
Imogen’s heart leapt. No one had expected her to be here.
“Roddenbury has Maggie Monroe with him,” she said so the others could hear.
“Steady, love,” Oscar’s voice was muffled through the wall, but it soothed her. “Steady.”
Tidwell came to the door and met her eyes, his stare kind but firm. “The Earl of Roddenbury, Mrs. Huxley, and Miss Maggie Monroe.”
“I will see them,” Imogen said, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless. Not that it mattered. Roddenbury would expect her to be nervous, afraid. She had to guess he’d love it.
The earl entered the room, followed by Maggie, and glared at the butler. “That will be all.”
As Tidwell stepped out, Roddenbury shut the
