She wasn’t entirely surprised, but she saw an opportunity to learn more about her almost-husband. ‘Why? What has he done?’
Lord Cairnross’s mood shifted, and his smile faded. Regina waited for him to speak, and when he did not, she asked again, ‘My lord, what happened with Dalton?’
The older man patted her hand and led her back into the garden. ‘He’s a lost soul, that one is. Mark my words, he’ll ne’er forgive himself. I can’t say if his father will, either.’
It seemed that his thoughts had shifted back to the present, for he was speaking of Brandon’s death. Was that the reason why Dalton had felt abandoned by his family? Did they truly believe that he had caused his brother’s death? He had blamed himself before, but she hadn’t wanted to dwell on it. His pain had evoked memories of the lonely adolescent boy on the day his brother had been buried. She didn’t like seeing Dalton in pain.
‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Regina murmured. ‘And there is more to Dalton than people see.’
The earl sobered. ‘But you see it, don’t you lass?’ His expression shifted into sadness.
She nodded and took his hand in hers. ‘I know you and your family grieve the loss of Brandon. But Dalton has done everything he can to take care of Cairnross and his father’s estates. He is a good man, and no one should blame him for a tragedy that happened in the past.’
The earl squeezed her palm. There was a fleeting moment of understanding before he turned and walked back towards his house. Regina followed him at a slow pace until she saw that he had made it back safely. But his remarks made her wonder about Dalton’s family. His mother and brother were dead, and she had never even met his father.
Her heart ached for Dalton, and she continued walking along the path. While she knew that he wanted to help her overcome her past, she didn’t want to entangle him in danger.
The arrival of the Bow Street Runner would inevitably reveal secrets she didn’t want her husband to know. She stopped to look back at the house, wondering if she should even go through with a true marriage. She had told her father she intended to do so, but now, she wondered if that was wise. At least now, Dalton still had his freedom. If the worst happened, and the truth was revealed, she could know that he was safe and unharmed.
She passed by the tree she had climbed earlier, and the sight of it only conjured memories of his embrace. She had loved his kiss, loved the way he needed her touch.
She loved him.
Regina closed her eyes, and she could hardly bear the storm of emotion pouring into her heart.
You cannot marry him, her head warned. When he learns the truth, he will despise your family. Give him the chance to walk away.
But selfishly, she wanted a few nights with him. She wanted to overcome her fears and give Dalton her innocence, as penance for what she had to do next—leave him.
Likely, it would hurt, and there was a chance the old memories would suffocate her...but she was willing to take the risk for Dalton’s sake.
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. Tonight, then. She would go to him and push away the darker memories of her past. In doing so, she would reclaim the life she’d wanted, spending these last few days showing him how much she loved him.
And when the Bow Street Runner arrived, she would take her father and go.
It was late at night when his door opened. Regina stood at the entrance, her hair down around her shoulders. ‘May I come in?’ she asked.
The sight of her warmed him. ‘You never have to ask,’ he answered. ‘You may come and sleep beside me every night if you wish.’ Though he didn’t believe that was why she was here, he wanted her to know that she was always welcome.
She blushed and closed the door behind her. But instead of coming to the bed, she sat down in a chair beside the fire. It was dying down, and he took a poker to revive the flames.
‘I’m sorry for the way I reacted earlier,’ she said. ‘It’s just that...these days with you have been so good, I didn’t want to think about the past. I didn’t want the Bow Street Runner to ruin everything.’
‘I won’t let that happen,’ he promised. But even so, her face held doubts, as if she believed he might change his mind. Despite her confession about Mallencourt’s death, he sensed a reserve, as if she had not told him everything. Likely it was meant to protect her father—but now was not the time to speak of it.
‘Thank you for taking my father in,’ she continued. ‘And if I didn’t say it before, I am also thankful that you married me in London. You turned an awful day into something wonderful.’
Dalton came to sit across from her in the opposite chair. Though he didn’t truly consider it a choice, she’d needed his help. ‘Of course.’ He set the poker aside and regarded her. She appeared nervous, and he wondered if she wanted to talk or whether she wanted comfort.
She answered his unspoken question when she stood from her chair and approached him. Then she knelt down and put her arms around his waist. Her offering deepened his desire until he was fighting the urge to claim her. ‘Dalton,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to think about the past any more. I only want to enjoy this time with you.’
God, yes. Her words were like a flame touched to oil. But he knew he had to be so careful, to coax her gently so she would not be afraid.
‘Come here,’ he murmured, lifting her to sit on his lap. Her skin allured him with the faint scent of flowers. His body was aching with raw lust, but he fought it back. She
