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“And they knew you were there?”
“No. I was hiding under your desk.”
“Who in God’s name?—”
Tricia swallowed. “I couldn’t see them, Thomas, but I do believe one of them was your cousin. At least, his voice sounded slightly familiar, and he mentioned you being his cousin, and I don’t know if you have any other cousins here at this house party. From your mother’s side or something.”
Thomas seethed. “No, I don’t. Damn that Jameson. He wants this estate. I’ll fucking kill him for this.”
“Thomas, no.”
Guests and servants were racing out of the mansion and milling about.
Tricia gasped. “Thomas, your arms. They’re burned!”
He looked down.
Sure enough, the fabric of his shirt had been burned away, and both his forearms were red with burns. But he felt nothing.
He only felt relief that Tricia was safe.
What if he hadn’t been walking around looking for her? What if he hadn’t smelled the smoke? Seen it coming out from under the door of the study?
Someone would have smelled it. Someone would have heard her screams.
Oh, God… What if…? And she hadn’t been strong enough to break the window herself.
He grabbed her, held her to him. “My God, Tricia. What if… What if…”
“I’m all right,” she gulped. “I’m so very sorry for?—”
He silenced her then.
He silenced her with his mouth on hers.
The kiss was raw and frantic. He pried her mouth open with his tongue, and he took from her. He kissed her as though he had never kissed another woman. As if she were his first and only.
And that’s when he knew, at that time, that she would be the only one for him from this time on. Even if he hadn’t ruined her, he would marry her.
He no longer cared that nearly everyone at the ball was now congregating outside until the fire was put out. They all saw him kissing Tricia.
Including his mother.
Including Cameron, his brother-in-law and Tricia’s brother.
And including the viscount, Polk, and his dratted cousin, Jonathan Jameson.
He’d have to marry her now, and he didn’t care. For he had now met Tricia’s requirement.
He loved her.
He loved her so much that the thought of her perishing in that fire made him sick to his stomach. Made tears come to his eyes.
He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, until?—
“Good God, Ashford, let the girl breathe.”
The voice came from none other than his brother-in-law, Daniel Farnsworth, the Duke of Lybrook and husband to Lily. His deep voice held a hint of a chuckle.
