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‘I bring you back and hope that you can trust me one last time. Hope that what I thought I saw in your eyes, and felt in your lovemaking, is not some illusion.’ Quin took a step and caught her hands in his. ‘Come with me now. Forgive me. I swear, if you do not want the solution that I will offer, then I will take you out of there, whatever it takes.’
‘No.’ She began to back towards the gate and he did nothing to stop her. She could not break eye contact with him as he stood there silent, watching her leave.
‘Let George know how to contact you. He will make arrangements with whatever solicitor you choose. I will not be able to find you,’ Quin said. His voice was steady, the look in his eyes was bleak.
That look stopped her in her tracks. I love him and up to now I have given him nothing that was not easy to give, nothing that I did not want, in my heart, for him to have. I can give him this, my trust, and if I am wrong... To the devil with common sense, she thought. Love him and take the consequences.
Cleo walked back and put her hand on Quin’s arm. ‘I will go with you.’
He smiled then, that elusive quirk of the lips that almost made a dent in his cheek, but not quite. ‘Let us get this done.’
The butler admitted them. ‘Welcome home, Miss Woodward. His Grace is in the library, I will announce you.’ He sounded relieved to see her, presumably her grandfather had been making life hell for all and sundry.
‘Miss Woodward, Lord Quintus Deverall, Your Grace.’
It was too quick, she had not had the chance to collect herself, Cleo realised. She made herself unclench her fingers from Quin’s arm. If he was about to hand her over like a stray dog, then she was not going to put up an undignified fight.
‘You found her!’ The duke came round the desk and shook Quin’s hand. ‘I knew I could rely on you, Deverall.’ He frowned at Cleo. ‘Where the blazes have you been, you wretched girl? You have completely compromised yourself: it is going to take a great deal of effort to salvage this mess.’
‘Kindly do not speak to Miss Woodward in that tone, Your Grace,’ Quin said. ‘Miss Woodward has been in a respectable lodging house chaperoned by her maid. And then she has been with me.’
‘Excellent.’ The duke stalked back to his chair, then something in Quin’s tone seemed to penetrate. ‘With you?’
‘Yes, Your Grace. With me. Cleo is indeed compromised and beyond your powers to cover up.’
All her grandfather’s icy poise seemed to desert him. His face darkened and he thumped his fist on to the desk. ‘You damned rake!’
‘You will not swear in front of Miss Woodward, Your Grace,’ Quin said calmly. He turned to her, went down on one knee and said simply, ‘Marry me, Cleo.’
The world tilted and then righted itself. Cleo found she could speak. ‘Why? Because you have compromised me?’
‘Because I love you. I must admit to being exceedingly obtuse. I only realised this morning, in bed.’
Over his head she saw the duke’s face go red. ‘You what?’
‘Grandfather. I need to speak to Quin alone.’ Could it be true? Could he really mean it?
‘And I need to take a shotgun to him!’
Quin stood up. ‘Excuse me, Your Grace. Cleo?’
‘This way.’ She led him out of the study and into the deserted dining room and locked the door behind them. ‘Quin, if this is belated guilt for lying with me...’
‘No, it is not belated guilt for anything, it is simply the first true thing I can be certain of in a very long time. I love you, Cleo. You have a great deal to forgive me for, I know that. The thing that I find hardest to forgive is that it took me so long to realise what I felt for you was not simply desire or liking.’
‘It’s impossible.’ Cleo realised she was wringing her hands and forced herself to stop.
‘What exactly is impossible about it?’ Quin enquired. ‘I have a courtesy title, a small estate, a healthy income and all my parts are in full working order, as you have seen for yourself. I do not keep mistresses, take snuff, gamble to excess, smoke and I am not going bald. And all my teeth are my own.’
He must have hoped to lighten the atmosphere, but instead his words moved Cleo from bewilderment to something near tears. ‘It would ruin you, Quin. You heard Grandfather just now. He would descend on the Foreign Office and denounce you. You would have made an enemy of an incredibly powerful man, upset the government and you will never get preferment, much less end up an ambassador.
‘And Lady Caroline,’ she went on, desperate to lay it all out so he would stop this gallant nonsense and save himself. ‘She is the perfect wife for you. What about her?’
