Asher’s Invention(19)

He glowered at her, a vein throbbing in his temple. “Poppycock!” he burst out. His eyes burned with a blistering fury. “I’ll not have you turn this relationship into a grubby, sordid, hole-in-the-corner affair. I won’t let you trifle with my feelings.” His voice rose to a towering crescendo as he thundered, “You will be my wife or nothing at all.”

She fell back, seared by his outburst. An icy inevitability swept over her. It crushed her to do so, but she could see no way out.

“Please, Asher. I cannot be your wife, not yet.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists, his face darkening and hardening as the fire in his eyes gradually died. “Very well,” he snapped. “Nothing it is, then.” He grabbed his top hat and jammed it onto his head.

A horrible trembling took hold of her legs. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Ignoring her pleading, he pulled on his gloves with vicious jerks. “Good day to you, Miss Lambkin. I won’t trouble you ever again.”

“Asher!”

Without a backward glance, he stalked out of the room. She stumbled a few steps after him before she collapsed onto the settee with a muffled sob.

Asher was gone. He was lost to her forever. And all because of her stupid wish for independence. She sniffed and wiped her wet cheeks. No, it wasn’t a stupid wish. She did need to find her own life. All her life she’d been too passive, too accepting of what fate dealt her. But now she wanted to change. She needed to become her own person, to make her decisions, good or bad, and live with them. She needed to be Asher’s equal.

Why couldn’t he see that? Why did he have to be so obstinate about having things his way? Couldn’t he realize how much she was hurting? She fumbled for her handkerchief as another paroxysm of sobs assailed her.

The door to the parlor crashed open. She paused in midsob.

“Asher?”

He stormed into the room, his hair disordered, his cravat flying, his eyes wild, his chest heaving as though he’d run a mile.

“Minerva…” He stopped short, seemingly overcome by the sight of her. “By God, I never thought…”

Involuntarily she started toward him in alarm. “What is—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he dashed across, swooped her into his arms and crushed her to his chest, squashing the air from her lungs. He pressed his cheek against hers, his skin cold from the outdoors and slightly stubbled. His frock coat was unbuttoned, his silk waistcoat crushed, and he’d lost his gloves. She stared at him, stupefied.

“Asher? Is it really you?”

“Of course. Who else?” He set her down on her feet, his expression still agitated. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?”

“No, indeed…” She laughed shakily. Of course it was Asher. Her eyes didn’t deceive her, but how different he seemed, the towering cold rage swept away by tumultuous warmth. “But what’s come over you? Just a few minutes ago you stalked out of this house vowing never to see me again.”

He tugged at his collar, pulling it askew. “Ah, well, you know what a stiff-necked fellow I can be, but a man is measured by his willingness to admit his mistakes. I’d not walked half a furlong before I realized the colossal error I’d made and came haring back to rectify it.” His eyes glittered with a curious fever. “Minerva, I was the damndest fool to let you go even for five minutes, and I detest fools. Will you give me a chance to put things right?”

Her heart thumped madly. How ardent he was! The passion in his face was enough to melt stone. Yet still, the complete turnaround in his attitude beggared belief. She swallowed and said cautiously, “Do you mean you agree with my need to forge my own independence?”

“I have never objected to your need for self-reliance.” He gave a sweeping wave. “Pursue your independence, my sweet, but remember, I’ll always be here for you, waiting.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Always?”

“Yes! I’ll wait for you until you’re ready to be my wife.” He brushed his fingers across her cheeks and lips, his touch almost reverential, as if he could scarcely believe he was holding her. His eyes burned with feeling. “Ah, Minerva. If need be, I would wait for you forever.”

She could not help but be thrilled by his words and caresses. His abrupt volte-face still flustered her, but how could she complain? Asher had come back to her. He loved her. He understood her needs, and he would wait for her. Forever, he’d said.

Well, she couldn’t argue with that.

Her soul started to brim as she circled her arms around his neck, and when she stood on tiptoe, she was overflowing with exhilaration.

“Forever is a long time,” she whispered against his lips. “I promise I won’t make you wait that long.”

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