Chapter Thirteen
Luke walked up the hill toward Moorish Manor flanked by Craven and Dashlane. Craven was silent, as usual, but Dashlane also stoically walked along, which was not at all his typical behavior. It might have made Luke laugh if he weren’t so caught up in his own thoughts. Dashlane acted as though the world might be ending.
Dashlane let out a long breath next to him. “I feel like I am about to attend my own funeral.”
Luke pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “It’s just one dinner.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re smitten.” Dashlane hit his thigh with his fist. “You’re likely to have fun tonight. Dance, flirt, maybe even steal a kiss.”
Desire made his body jolt. Luke had already stolen far more than a kiss. He fisted his hand. He’d been about to steal Adrianna’s entire future. Dreaming of acquiring land in Haversham and thinking about proposing. Hell, he’d begun to wonder if he’d fallen in love again.
The word love hit him like a block of bricks straight in the chest. Did he love her? He thought of how he’d given to her without taking. How her own pleasure had been more important to his. His chest tightened with an ache as he realized that he did.
Which was exactly the reason he should leave her be. He couldn’t be trusted with Adrianna’s future. Look at the mess his life was. She should marry a simpler man who could give her a beautiful future without the dirtiness of his past.
He’d have to tell her…tonight. Explain that he loved her and that this was for the best.
The ache in his chest dropped to his stomach. Leaving her would be so hard. He could almost taste the sweetness of a life with a woman like her. The feel of her curled in his arms, of her violet scent wrapped about him. The touch of her body as she pressed to him.
He nearly groaned aloud. Miranda had driven him to become a rake. He’d touched every woman he could to erase the memory of the one who’d broken him into a million pieces.
Adrianna. After her, he might become a monk. He never wanted to touch another woman again. Only her.
A sad smile graced his lips. Strange. She healed part of his heart but he still couldn’t have her. Well, he could but he wouldn’t. It turned out he loved her too much to do that to her.
They reached the drive and started up toward the house. The sun was setting and candlelight shimmered from several windows. He stopped, staring at the pretty façade. Amazing. The beauty of the outside actually represented the people within. He’d never in his life find this again.
“I don’t want to go in,” Dashlane said. “That Juliet is going to trap me in marriage and make me a miserable bloke for the rest of my life.”
That made Luke stop, a small chuckle rising to his lips. “She isn’t that good.”
Dashlane grimaced. “She might be. She’s got plans for me. Ones I want no part of.”
He raised a brow. “Can I ask you if you’re in denial or just-—”
“No.” Dashlane shook his head. “Even if I were the type to consider marriage, she isn’t the woman for me. I’m certain of that.”
“Then let her down quickly and easily,” Luke said gruffly, brooking no argument.
Craven looked at Luke. “Is Adrianna the woman for you?”
“Yes.” He wanted to hit something. Hard. “But she deserves so much better than me.”
Neither of his friends answered as they reached the front steps and he raised his hand to knock.
Ushered up the stairs, they entered the music room to find the family sitting in a semicircle, each looking at their father.
Mr. Moorish stood at its center repeating a Shakespearean sonnet. He couldn’t remember what work it hailed from, but the words echoed in his heart.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
The words hit Luke square in the stomach. Would he love Adrianna forever? His feelings only altered by death itself? Christ. How could he ever let her go? His gaze flew to hers and she stared back.
She looked more lovely than ever, straight-backed, with her blonde hair coiled into a loose coif and her blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. He wished to cross the room and pull her into embrace. Instead, he remained rooted where he stood.
“Good evening,” Mr. Moorish’s voice boomed across the room, a deep lyrical baritone. “So good of you gentlemen to come.”
All of the sisters rose from their seats. Adrianna stood too, her graceful body riveting his gaze to her.
He sucked in a breath, watching the candlelight shimmer off the purple silk of her gown. By God he wanted to touch her.
Distantly, Luke realized introductions were being made but he hardly heard them and as he crossed the room, he pressed his hands to his stomach to keep from reaching out to her. He was supposed to stay away from her. After reading Miranda’s letter, he knew he should say goodbye but that was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Damn it. As usual, he had no self-control.
She gave him a tentative smile as he came to stand in front of her. He clenched his jacket to refrain from touching her right away. “You look ravishing,” he said.
Color rose in her cheeks as she looked down at the floor. “So do you.”
“Shall we take a turn about the room?” He held out his elbow, and she slipped her hand into his arm.
Neither spoke as they began walking around the perimeter of the music room. Cordelia moved to the pianoforte, striking up a merry tune. The music afforded them some measure of privacy. “How did you find working on the bridge today?” she asked, moving along next to him.
“I liked it just fine,” he answered, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. He’d liked it far better than that. It had felt wonderful to be useful, out in the open air.
She nodded. “And your discussion with my father?” Her hand tightened on his arm.
His frown deepened. “Your father is both wise and interesting.”
“And what did the two of you discuss?”
Her voice had dropped so low that he hardly heard her. But he did hear the underlying hope in her question. He stopped, turning toward her. “We discussed the man I want to be.”
Her gaze had been trained on the floor but at those words, she looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “And?”
“And what?” But he realized this conversation’s direction and he shifted from one foot to the other. She’d wished his private discussion with her father meant she’d receive an offer of marriage. Bloody bullocks. This was worse than he’d ever imagined.
Her eyes widened as her lips parted. Adrianna’s chest filled with air as the color drained from her face. Suddenly her mouth snapped back closed again. “I’ve been such a fool, haven’t I?”