“You obviously came to terms with it all. Turned it about.”
The look he gave her made her want to cry. Hopelessness, defeat, anguish. The same emotions she had been feeling not more than an hour past.
“This has all happened so quickly, with no time to really think about the ramifications for us both.” He paused, seemed to regather his thoughts and then went on. “You will be married to a true bastard with barely a name and hardly any ties to the land. I will be married to a duke’s daughter who could do so much better than a pirate.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it work.” But she almost choked on the words. She was selling herself for the protection of her brothers and sisters. His touching stories of finding himself could not sink into her heart. She would do this without getting emotionally attached. He’d told her he wasn’t a hero. She could do this. But was she supposed to like it already? The intimate touches, his masculine scent enveloping her senses, his voice rumbling through her like gentle thunder? Was she supposed to already miss the warmth his body had given to hers as she was held in his arms, however innocuously that contact was intended?
Darius’s quiet voice reached through her melancholy as he closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Butterflies took flight inside her stomach and she wanted to tell him she’d changed her mind, tell him it had all been a trick and that it was she who was sorry for him.
She bit down on her tongue to stop the words from falling out.
Darius took her cold hands in his warm fingers and gave a squeeze. He didn’t let go. “If your father had lived, if your mother had stopped his foolishness and you were one big happy family, what would you have wanted? You probably could have married a duke. An earl. You might have been a duchess and had all and sundry bow at your feet and call you Your Grace.”
Eliza sighed but only to hide her surprise. Not in more than seven years had anyone asked Eliza Penfold what she wanted out of this life. “I’ve never wished for any of that.”
“A romantic?” he asked as he reached up and tucked a stray blonde tendril behind her ear.
Her body swayed towards his but she found she didn’t have the energy to sidestep him or find some of that distance propriety dictated. “Never that. I don’t think there was ever a time when I wanted a husband. By my mother’s passing, I was barely out of the schoolroom, forced to take care of the others or see them neglected.”
“Do you want children of your own?”
She could almost taste his scent now, feel his breath on her face and his body heat calling for her to melt into him fully. She shook her head again, her thoughts becoming fuzzy. “I don’t think so.”
He pulled back but only slightly. “Never?”
“I would never say never but what have I to give them? If my mother and father had never had children, we wouldn’t be in this position would we?”
“You can’t peer into the past and ask what if, Eliza. If they hadn’t married, we wouldn’t be standing here right now. You certainly can’t erase the past or base your future on another’s actions.”
Finally meeting his gaze again, his eyes friendly and open, she asked him, “Living the life you have, would you bring children into this world?”
He shook his head as well. “Mine is a dangerous life. I had no immediate plans for marriage and definitely not for children. How can I give a wife what she needs when my home is on the sea for nine months of the year, sometimes twelve?”
“You paint a grim picture for your bride.”
“Can you marry a shadow, Eliza? You can live here for the rest of your life or with your brother, you can tell people whatever you want, but you will be lonely. I can offer you friendship and a roof above your head but not much more.”
“Loneliness doesn’t worry me,” she told him after a brief hesitation. Once she was his wife, no one could touch her, trap her, tell her what to do. She would find happiness and love in the children her siblings would eventually have. She allowed a small smile to lift the corners of her lips as she confided, “A solid roof over my head would be nice.”
Darius chuckled but did not answer. He was waiting for her to say yes. To give herself and her future into his hands.
“I’m sorry you had to get involved,” she finally offered.
“So am I,” he replied but didn’t venture more.
“So where does that leave us?” she asked.
Cupping both her cheeks in his hands, it was Darius’s turn to sigh. “We have to marry and we have to make it appear a love match above reproach. It won’t stop the tongues wagging but it will turn the gossip to our favour rather than completely against us.”
She gulped and licked her suddenly dry lips, managing a small nod against his work-roughened hands.
“Even your siblings are to believe us wildly in love,” he murmured, closer than she’d imagined he’d ever be.
“How?”
“It all starts with a kiss.”
Chapter Eleven
Darius played with fire. Eliza’s lips were so pale against the backdrop of her even paler face and white-blonde hair, and she trembled against his fingertips but he needed to taste her. He had to see if she would cower and retreat or if she was ready to play her part in the charade that was to follow.
It was the story he told himself, the excuse he found comfort in rather than labelling it good old-fashioned lust. He
