“You cannot make it right,” she cried. “There is nothing we can do to make it right. We cannot turn back time and erase our mistake. My mistake. It is impossible.”
“We can marry,” Daniel insisted. “You are not ruined if you marry. Marry me, Julia.” He held his hand out toward her, his eyes entreating.
Stunned, Julia froze. His words touched something within her, lit a flickering hope that quickly spluttered and died. “No, I cannot.” Her words were soft, and she shook her head, tears streaking her cheeks. “It is too late. I will not . . . I will not accept another proposal for the wrong reasons. I did that once, and I will be paying for that mistake forever. Please. You must go.”
She hurried to the door and started to open it, needing to escape before she broke down completely. She didn’t get far.
Daniel was behind her, slamming his palm against the door above her head, preventing her from opening it.
“It is the right reason, Julia. It is the right thing to do.” He spoke to her bent head, for she refused to turn around.
She pressed her forehead against the door, aware of the heat of his large frame, crowding her, his breath warm on the nape of her neck. “I cannot,” she whispered. “Your home is in America and mine is here. I cannot leave my family, not after the scandal I have brought them. I will not do it. Do not ask me to.”
He dropped his hand and sighed. “Look, you do not have to accept my proposal now. But please, at least give me a chance to convince you otherwise.” His voice was low and urgent. “I have wronged you, and I offer my most sincere apologies that my transgression has put your family in this difficult situation. I can only beg of you to let me make amends. To make it right.”
She closed her eyes, her heart bleeding, her emotions warring within her. She wanted to say yes, and let him enfold her in his arms. To sail to America and never look back. Let the wagging tongues flap away over her brazen conduct. She knew from past experience that when word of her severed engagement spread, the rising speculation would be cruel. As it had been over the last five years, the questions would be innocent at first, then ever more demeaning.
What happened? Is it true that she was discovered in a compromising situation? With His Grace’s twin brother? Oh dear. Dumped by a duke. And sailed off to America? With the brother?
Her disgrace would be an incriminating shadow trailing her family. It would scare away any of Emily’s potential suitors.
Julia had just gotten her family back on their feet. She could not bear knowing that her behavior would bring them low again.
More importantly, she refused to accept a man for the wrong reasons again.
It was a proposal made out of pity, and her heart rebelled at the thought. Last night had given her wisdom beyond her years. She now knew what she needed in a marriage proposal, or from any man who wanted to share his life with her.
She wanted what her parents had had. What Emily had found with Jason. She wanted to be loved. The man who asked for her hand needed to do so not because he thought her beautiful, or deserved an heir, or he needed to save her from ruin. He needed to do so because he loved her. He loved her with such desperation that the loss of her would drop him to his knees.
She would settle for no less.
“It will not work, Daniel,” she whispered above the pounding in her head and the anguished cry of her heart. She would go to London. To escape. To think. To unravel emotions tangled up like a knotted ball of yarn. “It is over. I am leaving for London, and you need to return to America.”
“It is not over. We are not through,” he insisted and spun her around. “We have something together. We have always had something, and you cannot deny it.”
“It was two kisses,” she cried. “Stop making it into something more.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “I am not making it into anything more than what it is. Perhaps you need a reminder.”
Before she could protest, his head lowered and he captured her mouth in a scalding kiss. He kissed her as she had forgotten he could kiss. Powerfully. Expertly. She gasped, and when her mouth opened, he deepened the kiss, his tongue parrying with hers. The heady combination of Daniel and brandy had her knees weakening. Her hands crept up to curl around his shoulders, holding on as her world tilted and still he kissed her. Desire coursed through her and she groaned. His arm slid around her waist, bracing her weight against his.
He lifted his head, and his eyes, heavy-lidded and smoldering, stared into hers.
Dazed, she gazed up at him.
“It is something more. Do not make it into less than it is.” His words were soft and entreating. “You cannot escape it in London.” He held her with one arm and brushed a tendril of hair from her forehead. “Because I will come after you, Julia. We are not finished. This is not finished. But I will give you some time.”