The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2) (31 page)

It was, but Andrew didn’t want to think Charles would do that. Beaumont? Andrew didn’t want to think it was him either. Thursby? Again, Andrew would be surprised…and disappointed. Why, because they were friends? Hell, how had he let any of this happen? He didn’t want to care about people. He’d promised himself all those years ago that he’d remain stoic and alone.

Only he wasn’t stoic, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. He had these
friends
. And Lucy. He’d thought he could push her away and guard himself from further heartache. But when he thought of her being hurt by this person who would expose her secrets, he realized it was too late. He already cared far too much.

“Dart?” Greene prompted. “What are you going to do?”

His mind was racing, and at the same time, he was fighting to take a breath. “I won’t be extorted.” But neither could he allow Lucy’s secret to be exposed.

“If I might offer an opinion—and do tell me if I’ve interpreted this wrong. This secret, whatever it is, has to do with Miss Parnell, and you are clearly regarded as someone who can protect her. Given your query about my interest in her, I think I can deduce that you
are
interested in courting her. Or perhaps you’re considering the ultimate protection. Perhaps you should ask her to be your wife.”

Andrew’s vision tunneled briefly. “I don’t…I don’t know if that would be an acceptable solution.” For her or for him.

Greene straightened, his gaze direct. “Is there some reason you can’t marry her?”

There were many. Or maybe just one rather large reason: fear. Andrew swallowed, his throat feeling raw. “You’ve given me something to think about. Thank you.”

He turned and made his way from the coffee shop, his mind reeling from what seemed an obvious solution. If he married her, he’d be able to protect her from whatever this Mr. Black might say, and he’d ensure her future—and that of her grandmother—was secure.

A part of him thrilled to the idea. He loved being with her, and the thought of sharing adventures with her, including in the bedchamber, filled him with anticipation. The rest of him was paralyzed with the fear of losing her.
 

He didn’t know if it was a risk he could take.

Chapter Seventeen

L
ucy spent the day in a bit of a haze. She’d slept later than usual, waking to a feeling of utter contentment and languor. Until she’d recalled how Andrew had left. It had been the reverse of what had happened at Darent Hall, but it felt the same.

No, it felt worse because now she knew she loved him.

She pulled on her gloves as she waited for Grandmama to come down. They were going to the park because it was perhaps the nicest day in what had so far been a rather wretched spring.

For the hundredth time, she told herself she’d been a fool to succumb to Andrew’s charms last night, and for the hundredth time, she argued that she hadn’t succumbed to anything but her own heart’s desire. And she refused to regret it.

She tied her bonnet beneath her chin with determination. Nothing had changed. She was not some pathetic miss who would crumble to pieces over a man.

Grandmama came down the stairs outfitted for their ride in the park. Lucy smiled at her, glad for the opportunity to put Andrew from her mind. “You look lovely, Grandmama. I’ve always admired that hat.” It sported a gorgeous violet ribbon as well as a cluster of faux violets that appeared absolutely real.

“Thank you, dear.” She stepped into the hall and looked Lucy over from head to foot. “You’ll do, but I do wish you had a new walking dress.” She shook her head and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “I’ll be much happier when you are wed and have a man to take care of you as you deserve.”

Lucy appreciated that her grandmother wanted the best for her—they just disagreed about what that was. “A new dress will not make me happy.”

Grandmama pursed her lips. “So you say. I cannot understand your independent ideas. I know you haven’t been raised with the best example of manliness.” She exhaled. “Your father, God rest his soul, allowed his vices to take control of him. You won’t marry a man like him.” She gave Lucy an earnest look. “You do realize not all men are like him—or like your grandfather?”

She did, but as she’d learned from her experience with Andrew, they likely had some problem or another. The question was whether she wanted to deal with them. Damn, there she went thinking about him again.

“I know, Grandmama. Are you ready?” Lucy hoped the conversation would die a swift death.

“Yes, let’s be on our way.”

Burton opened the door, and a footman helped them into their coach, an ancient contraption—ancient being at least twenty years old—that creaked and wobbled excessively. The footman had tried to repair it, but the mechanics were beyond his expertise. He wasn’t even a coachman, but they couldn’t afford one of those.

Once they were ensconced inside and the vehicle had lurched forward, Grandmama angled toward her. “Who do you hope to see this afternoon? Edgecombe? Or maybe Dartford? I like him.”

It seemed Lucy wouldn’t be able to forget about him today. She ought to have known better. Even without Grandmama asking about him, he was clearly hovering about her head.

“I’d prefer to just walk with my friends.” Lucy expected she’d see Aquilla but never knew when Ivy might be there. She and Lady Dunn kept a less predictable schedule, much like Lucy and her grandmother.

Grandmama sighed. “It’s no wonder you aren’t married. You must engage with these gentlemen, or you’ll be a spinster.”

Lucy bit her tongue lest she point out that she already
was
a spinster. “I don’t need to marry, nor do I want to. I have an excellent plan to move us to Bath. I found a charming cottage today, and I’ve already written to the owner.”

Grandmama frowned. “How can we possibly afford that? I’ve already told you that I don’t have enough to support you.”

“I know, but I’ve saved up enough of my own money, and I’m going to invest a small sum. I won’t be buying any walking dresses, but I don’t have need of them anyway.”

Grandmama leaned back on the seat, her hand fluttering to her chest. “My dear, I can’t believe you’d choose that over a future with a man like Dartford. Sometimes I wonder how we are related, but then I remember who your mother was.”

Lucy knew her grandmother meant no insult. Grandmama and her mother hadn’t been close, but Grandmama had respected her son’s choice in wife, and she’d even remarked that it had been good for him to marry such a strong woman. Indeed, she and Lucy had discussed on a few occasions that if Lucy’s mother hadn’t died, gambling might not have consumed her father. It was tragic how death could alter a person’s course in life. Such as how it had affected Andrew. If he hadn’t lost his family, he might not have pushed Lucy away. Twice.

Forever.

Her throat felt tight as they drove into the park. She didn’t want to think about him, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She supposed that was what happened when one was in love.

The footman drove them to where the carriages stood. Lucy looked for her friends, eager to disembark and take a brisk walk to ease the turmoil inside her. Grandmama would stay in the coach and visit with passing acquaintances.

Though she didn’t see Aquilla or Ivy, Lucy stepped from the vehicle. They’d be along presently, she was certain. She pivoted toward the gate to watch for their arrival.

“Look, Lucy,” Grandmama said from inside the coach, pointing behind Lucy. “Here comes Dartford.”
 

Lucy turned and saw that Andrew was coming straight for her. What the devil was he about
now
? Anger and frustration welled with hurt and longing. She didn’t want to see him. Especially not here, in a rather public setting, where she couldn’t tell him to leave her alone.

Well, she
could
, just not in the volume she might have desired.

As he came toward her, she thought of that morning in the park with him, when they’d raced in his phaeton. How glorious and exhilarating it had been. She nearly smiled at the memory, until she remembered that she wanted to be irritated at him.

“Miss Parnell,” he said, stopping before her. He looked toward the coach with a wide, handsome smile. “Lady Parnell. It’s surely too fine a day to remain inside?”

Grandmama wave her hand at him, chuckling. “Don’t you bother with me. Take my granddaughter for a promenade.”

“I shall be honored.” He offered his hand to Lucy and looked down at her. “May I?”

Lucy wanted to say no, but if she went with him, she could tell him to leave her alone—for good. Then she could tell Grandmama to stop pairing them off.

“Yes.” She hissed the word at him and reluctantly took his arm.

Once they were on their way, he said, “You’re angry with me again.”

“I’m not angry with you. I
dislike
you. There’s a difference.”

“You dislike me now?” He sounded surprised.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment as they took several steps along the path. They passed another couple and nodded at them.

“Not that I can think of, unfortunately. I suppose it’s too much to ask for us to be friends?”

“Andrew—
Dartford
—what do you want?” It no longer signified. “Never mind. I don’t care what you want. I’d like you to leave me alone. Don’t ask me to promenade. Don’t ask me to dance. And
don’t
show up in my bedchamber uninvited.” She felt him flinch as she said the last.

“You regret last night.” He didn’t frame it as a question.

“I don’t, but I should regret a repeat occurrence.” She longed to rail at him. With every step, she was reminded of how much she enjoyed being with him, how she was willing to take a chance on a future she didn’t expect to want, how painfully she loved him.
 

And how he shared none of those sentiments.

He drew her off the path so that they were away from people but not out of sight. He turned to her and looked into her eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked nervous. Or unsettled. Or anxious.

“Lucy, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?”

She stared at him, unable to summon a thought. Or a word. Or any kind of reaction.

She had to have misheard him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know you said you didn’t wish to marry, but it seems you might have changed your mind.”

He was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. His question had been odd. She tried to discern what was going on behind his dark eyes. She withdrew her hand from his arm. “Is that a proposal?” She wasn’t at all sure that it was.

He hesitated, but only a moment. “Yes.” He clasped her fingers in his. “I want you to be my countess.”

She suffered another moment of shock when words and thought utterly deserted her again. Her breath caught, and then her heart sped as joy spilled through her. Her brain, however, remained detached. She simply didn’t comprehend why he was asking this now. “Why? If it’s because of what happened last night, there’s no need for us to marry.”

“What if there’s a child?”

Now it was her turn to feel anxious. “You took precautions.”

“Nothing’s foolproof.”

She relinquished the sensation of anxiety in favor of annoyance. “You’re asking because of a very small possibility that I’m with child. No, thank you.”

He exhaled. He squeezed her fingers. “I’m asking because I want to. I’ve never met anyone who made me think twice about marriage. Until you.” His eyes darted to the right and left. “If there weren’t so many damn people here, I’d take you in my arms and kiss you until you agreed.”

Heat suffused her, and now her ire gave way to something far hotter—desire. He wanted to marry her. She honestly didn’t know what to say.

“You’re killing me.” His words came out as a near growl. “Are you going to leave me wondering?”

“I should. You deserve that and more.”
 

His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “I do. You could spend the rest of our lives making me suffer.”

She couldn’t help it. She smiled. Until her cheeks hurt. She loved him so much. He hadn’t said he loved her, but she knew he at least liked and admired her. An echo from the past warned her to be careful—that he could hurt her as her father had—but she silenced the dissenting voice. The future she never imagined was in front of her now, and she wanted it.