Not to mention Haddon.
“Your presence here,” Nighter started in a dark, raspy tone, “instead of Adelia, leads me to the assumption you wish to . . . end this affair.”
“I do,” Marissa said. “Miss Higgins’s reputation is to stay intact. Her marriage to Viscount Pendleton will go forward as planned.”
A frosty smile met her words. “Clare detests him, you know. Says he’s a cold fish with little warmth.”
“Yet she found you more appealing?” Marissa hissed before she could think better of it.
The briefest bit of anger flashed across his beautiful features before the icy, aloof mask fell back into place. “I can be human when it is warranted.”
“I’ll make note of it should we meet in the future. Your friendship with Miss Higgins is at an end. Do not approach her again. A large sum of money has been deposited in the account you designated. Our brief association, Captain Nighter, is over.”
The pale blue frost of his eyes lingered over Marissa while she spoke. “It doesn’t have to be, my lady.”
“Yet, I’m fairly certain.” The coldly furious words came from the doorway. “It does.”
28
Nighter and Marissa both turned to face the gentleman now standing at the entrance to the parlor.
Haddon.
“What are you doing here?” Marissa whispered as her eyes lovingly traced every inch of him.
“I thought you eschewed scandal, Marissa. Yet here you are inviting it again. And so soon after the last one.” Haddon stalked into the room. “You’ve been dismissed,” he said pointedly. “Good evening, Captain Nighter.”
A smirk crossed Nighter’s lips before he bowed to Marissa. “A pleasure, Lady Cupps-Foster, doing business with you. Should you ever have need of me again—”
“She won’t,” Haddon snarled. “Get out.”
Nighter inclined his head and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Haddon moved to stand before her. Two tiny spots of pink stood out against his magnificent cheekbones as he struggled to regain control of his emotions.
She’d never seen him in such a state. Despite the circumstances, Marissa found it rather thrilling.
“Have you concluded your business with Nighter?” Haddon stalked toward her.
“What business do you imagine I have with him?”
“We have a fucking understanding, Marissa,” he growled.
“Language, my lord. Do we?” She moved to the other side of the room. Haddon was so bloody handsome, especially when he was angry. “An understanding would require you to call upon me, which you have refused to do.”
The color on his cheekbones deepened. “Have I?”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Haddon. Nor received word from you except some note from your secretary informing me you weren’t in London.”
“A fortnight. I had business. I cannot always be at your beck and call, Marissa,” he snapped.
Beck and—“Let us not beat around the bush, Haddon. You have been avoiding me as if I were diseased.” She hated the way her voice broke, the pain of being apart from him bleeding into her words. “And you know very well what I was discussing with Nighter. You know about Pendleton.”
Why wouldn’t he confront her? Rail at her?
“Marissa—”
“You’ll be ruined, Trent. By me. Your quarries gone as well as your daughters’ dowries. All to help Pendleton, a man not worth saving. Why aren’t you trying to stop me?” Her voice had gone up an octave, mad at him for being so bloody obstinate. “I am doing something so terrible that even my son Kelso is appalled. But you? Nothing. Not a word.”
Haddon turned away from her for a moment, his fingers stretching down his thighs. When he finally faced her, anguish clouded his features. “You want to know why I’m not trying to keep you from what you want. Is that what you’re asking?” The broken words echoed in the room.
“Yes,” she whispered, wanting nothing more than to pull Haddon into her arms. “I do.”
He paced before her, his lean body so taut she could see the lines of his muscles stretching beneath the fabric of his coat. Stopping abruptly, he glared at her, agony etched across his face. “You, Marissa Tremaine,” his voice resonated with pain, “are the only woman I have ever loved. I’ve wanted nothing in my life as much as you. Ever. If someone had hurt you, what lengths would I go to?”
“Trent—”
“There is nothing I would not do for you. Nothing.” His eyes shut for a moment, the dark lashes fanning across his cheeks, before opening them again. “If I must be ruined in order to prove the depth of my love for you, then I humbly agree.”
Marissa stepped back, wrapping her arms around her waist.
No. He couldn’t mean that.
“Miss Higgins will no doubt be better off not married to Pendleton. Christ, anyone would be. I could chase Nighter down right now. Warn Pendleton. But I won’t.” His face was savage. Determined. “If, in ruining Pendleton, you finally find some measure of peace”—his voice thickened with emotion—“so that we may be together and be happy, then do it. Ruin us both.”
Marissa stared at him, mouth open, unable to speak. Then she promptly burst into tears, which turned into horrible gut-wrenching sobs.
“Jesus. Marissa, come here.” His arms were around her in an instant, rocking her back and forth, whispering to her it was all right, comforting her as if she were a child. He didn’t mind being impoverished, he assured her. He loved her. All would be well.
My God, how could I ever have doubted him?
She sobbed harder, clinging to him and shoving her nose into his coat. Her head flopped to his chest, her tears dampening the fabric of his evening clothes.
Haddon’s arms didn’t loosen as he gently moved her to the loveseat in the center of the room.
Marissa wept for what seemed like hours. She cried for Reggie and the life he hadn’t gotten to live. For the years she’d been alone. And Haddon. The man who loved her so unconditionally he was willing to
