More Than a Duke(105)

Anne looked down at their interlocked hands, a desire to take all that he now offered. She pressed her eyes closed and drew in a slow breath. When she opened them, she took in the rugged planes of his square jaw, the slight cleft in his firm chin. “If you were to wed me, to save me from Mr. Ekstrom, the time would come when you resented…”



Harry raised her hands to his mouth, and the words died on her lips. “This is not about me saving you.” He kissed first one, then the other. “This is about you saving me.” He released one of her hands.



“This is most improper, Lord Stanhope!” Mother cried.



Harry ignored the countess’ fervent outburst. He reached inside the front of his jacket and withdrew a small packet. “You are the only woman I wish to have. I love you, Anne Arlette Adamson, and I would have you for my wife.” He pressed the velum into her hand.



She glanced frantically at the blurred words and then searched around. Katherine rushed forward with Anne’s spectacles. She accepted them, struggling to open the frames and maintain her grip upon the sheets in her hand.



“Here,” he murmured. Harry took them from her trembling fingers and placed them on her nose.



The countess stalked across the room. She stopped beside them, her skirts snapping wildly about her ankles. “You’ve no right to such familiarity where my daughter is concerned!”



Anne read several lines and her heart kicked up a quick rhythm. Her gaze flew to Harry’s.



“What is this?” her mother sputtered. She snatched the marriage license from Anne’s fingers and read, her eyes, huge circles in her face. She crumpled it in her palm. “Impossible! Why, why my daughter is to wed the honorable Mr. Ekstrom.”



Harry held Anne’s stare as he spoke to her mother. His jaw tightened. “Your daughter is not wedding Ekstrom.” He looked to Anne. “Marry me, Anne.”



Anne closed her eyes. After her discovery of Father’s betrayal, she’d foolishly believed she knew what she needed—in a husband, life, love. Material gain and a powerful connection was to come before all else. Only, with Harry, she’d found how very little she’d known about life or love. He’d shown her. He’d opened her eyes to all she longed for…all she needed. He was all she needed. She opened her eyes. “I—”



“You needn’t marry either of them, Anne,” Katherine said quietly.



Anne opened her mouth.



“Marry him?” She winced at her mother’s high-pitched shriek. “She is to wed Bertrand Ekstrom.” Then, in a very uncountess like display of rage—she stomped a foot.



The duke continued past his mother-in-law’s antics. “Indeed, Katherine is correct. I’d agree that you shouldn’t feel compelled to wed.” He peered down his hawk-like nose at Harry. “Either of them.”



Harry fished something out of his jacket. Her gaze fell to the orange ribbon dangling between his fingers. “This reminded you of everything you lost, Anne. Take it back now, take it as a reminder of what you’ll always carry. My love. My fidelity. My—”



“Yes,” Katherine and Jasper spoken in unison.



“No,” the countess cried out, burying her face in her hands.



Three pairs of eyes swiveled to the fiercely frowning duke who’d made little attempt to hide his dislike of the other man. He tugged at his lapels. “That is, if you’ll have him.”



Harry gave a slight nod and the duke returned the gesture, as a silent, unspoken truce passed between them.



Mother scraped her disapproving stare over Harry. “There is an agreement already reached. The scandal would be disastrous. Furthermore, he will break your heart. He is a philanderer, a rogue, and rogues cannot be reformed.”



Fury spiraled through Anne and she took a step toward her mother. “He is not him.”



Her hand fluttered to her breast. “What are you—?”



“He is not Father,” Anne said with steely strength underscoring those words.



The older woman’s skin turned waxen and she sputtered. “H-he is—”



“A good man,” she interrupted. She slid her hand into Harry’s. “An honorable man.” A man who will never betray me. A man who would care for his children. And always place his family first…because he loved Anne in ways Father had never loved her mother. To say as much would devastate the other woman and for that, Anne fell silent.



Harry cleared his throat and she looked to him once more. “If you’ll marry a bounder such a me…Even as I don’t deserve you. Even as you’d be better with damned Crawford—”