Her knees gave out, and she lurched over and plopped down on the chair.
“You’d like to marry me,” she mumbled. “You, Lucas Watson, Lord Barrett, would like to wed me, Libby Henrietta Pendleton Carstairs. You’re deranged to even consider it.”
“I am deranged; I won’t deny it. You are flamboyant and alluring and divinely beautiful. You constantly entice men until they become obsessed. With you as my wife, I figure I will suffer perpetual jealousy and resentment over how everyone dotes on you. Yet I’m willing to bind myself anyway.”
“Why would you?” she could only ask.
“Don’t you know? You silly fool, I love you. I’m not the brightest oaf in the world though, so I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I thought I was about to perish from an undiagnosed illness.”
“You don’t love me,” she insisted. “Don’t pretend.”
“Haven’t we been through this? You will not tell me what to think.”
He was furious, and she laughed. “All right, all right, but I simply have to mention that you are behaving like a lunatic. I’m worried you’ll wake up tomorrow morning and regret your declaration.”
“You’re correct. I will probably regret this forever. You will drive me mad with lust and joy and wild living. I will have abandoned every bit of propriety and moral rectitude merely for the chance to wallow in your precious company. I will climb any mountain—I will debase myself, humiliate myself—to have you for my very own. Don’t you dare claim that dream won’t come true.”
He appeared genuinely earnest, and she began to shake uncontrollably.
“You need an heiress,” she reminded him, “and I’m poor.”
“No, you’re not. According to the newspapers, you’re Lord Roland’s daughter. When Fish visited me at Barrett, she apprised me that Charles will give you a dowry. He’s generous that way, and he feels guilty that he didn’t watch over you when you were small.”
“He will not dower me. That’s absurd.”
“Fish thinks he’ll likely confiscate a pile of it from Penny—as punishment for her running off with Simon.”
Libby gasped. “I couldn’t take it from Penny! I would never permit that.”
“Well, I would, and any decision would be between Charles and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a father now, Libby. Your father will pick your husband, and in my view, it should be me. I simply have to approach him and ask for your hand.” He puffed himself up, seeming officious and annoying. “Which is precisely how I will proceed if you don’t immediately agree to have me. Just say yes, and we can avoid all the drama.”
“You can’t bother Charles about it!”
“I will—if you don’t start obliging me.”
“Ooh, you’re such a bully.”
He grinned. “Yes, and I especially like bullying you. I’m amused by how your glorious blue eyes flash with temper when you’re angry with me.”
“Don’t ply me with compliments. They won’t work.”
“They won’t? Then how about this? Fish and Simon—the two people you care most about—will be residing at Roland. It’s next door to Barrett. If you stay in London, won’t you miss them?”
“I already miss them, and I can’t imagine how I’ll stumble forward without them. I’ve never been on my own before.”
“If you were with me at Barrett, you’d be able to see them all the time.”
“It’s cruel of you to drag Fish and Simon into the discussion. You don’t play fair.”
“I’m desperate, so I’m prepared to pursue desperate measures.”
He walked over to her, and to her consternation, he dropped to a knee and clasped hold of her hand. There was only one reason a man put himself in that position, and her trembling grew even more pronounced.
“Lucas Watson,” she scolded, “what are you doing?”
“You know what I’m doing. Now hush.”
“Don’t do this. Don’t force me to refuse you.”
He scowled ferociously. “You’re not refusing me. Remember: If you don’t behave, I’ll tattle to your father.”
“You’re insane.”
“Yes, very possibly, but if I’ve tipped off my rocker, you pushed me off it.” He leaned in and kissed her again, just a quick brush of his lips to hers, then he said, “I have loved you from the moment we met.”
“You couldn’t have. You’re a confirmed bachelor. Such a demented notion would never have occurred to you.”
“I explained the situation, didn’t I? I thought I was dying from a peculiar malady, so the truth didn’t dawn on me until much later. How could I have guessed it would turn out to simply be a terrible case of loving Libby Carstairs?”
It was such a pretty comment, and she was flummoxed by it. A few chinks in her armor began to appear. When he was sweet, when he was wonderful, it was so hard to keep her distance.
“I might love you too,” she grudgingly confessed, “but with my admitting it, you better not tease me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, so would you be silent and listen to me?”
“I would, but you never get to the point.”
“I’ve fought with myself and pretended you were a passing fancy.”
“If I recall correctly, you asked me to be your mistress.”
“I will always be deeply ashamed of that lurid proposition.” His tone and expression sobered. “I have traveled the globe and honorably served my country. I have resigned my commission and journeyed to England to assume my spot as head of the family. Our name is renowned throughout the kingdom, but it was tarnished by my brother. I’m rebuilding what he squandered.”
“I realize that, so I can’t fathom why you’re suggesting we wed. It’s why I’m sure you’ll regret it in the morning.”
“Hush, Libby! I’m sharing something important.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t care about my reputation. I don’t care about tamping down rumors or living a quiet, dreary life in the country. If that sort of existence means I can’t have you too, then I’ll give it up without a backward glance.”
She laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m notorious, and scandal follows me. People glom onto me—men especially—and won’t let go. I’m fascinating and exotic,
