Page 56 of The Earl’s Hoyden

His behavior had been reprehensible, especially with a lady like Hannah, who was good and pure and kind.

“Marry me,” he said abruptly. It was a clunky, poorly thought-out proposal, but he could not forgive himself the liberties he had taken with her and not offer marriage.

She gaped at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“The way I’ve behaved, it was reprehensible. I’m asking for your hand to preserve your honor.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren’t what he wanted to say.

“Preserve my honor?” She frowned, and his stomach sank. “That’s why you would wed me?”

“I’m a gentleman, and you’re a lady,” he replied. “I would never take advantage—”

“You didn’t take advantage.” Hurt replaced the desire in her eyes, glimmering with unshed tears. “I wanted…I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to…to…do what you did…”

He had thoroughly ruined this. Again.

Damn his inability to articulate his thoughts better. But for some reason, the more something meant to him, the harder it was to compose it all into words.

“I want this,” he said vehemently. “Us. Please, marry me.”

She stared at him as if he’d asked her to cut off her hand. “No.”

With that, she darted past him from the alcove and into the dark night.

“Hannah—wait.” Lucien ran to follow her when a woman stepped in front of him in the middle of the path.

Lady Alison, the woman who had put herself at Lucien’s side for the better part of the evening, curled a finger around a lock of her blonde hair. And the smile on her lips said she’d overheard everything.

13

There were very few times in Hannah’s life that she allowed herself the luxury of imagining what it would be like to receive a proposal from a man. But in all those instances, never once had the reason been to “preserve her honor” after a heated kiss.

Well, more than a kiss.

Her knees were still soft with the force of…whatever that was. God, but it had been heavenly. Wicked and sinful and so absolutely amazing.

Never had she realized her body could experience sensations like that. How a simple finger could so expertly draw out such euphoria.

She hadn’t thought the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens could be improved upon. It appeared she was mistaken.

Admittedly, she had allowed too much. There were so many times she could have stopped him. He had even given her the choice, and she had asked for it. An unwanted shiver of pleasure teased down her back at the very memory. It all had been very pleasurable. Perhaps too much so.

As she strode quickly down the lantern-lit path, even the frigid night air could not quell the blaze of longing that lingered between her thighs and burned at her cheeks. If he had not stopped, how far might she have allowed him to go?

She had lost herself in the fantasy of Lucien, of what it would be like to free herself to be with him. Without fear of rejection, without cataloging the many ways that he might find her wanting. All of it had been cast aside to spread her wings and soar into the possibility of love.

At the end of it all, she liked Lucien for who he was before the veneer of fashion made him shine. And she would want him to like her in the same regard. Not for having shared such intimate indiscretions or for fear of her father’s retribution.

But truly, as a man who would love her for who she was when she was nobody special at all.

Her eyes were hot with unshed tears.

Whatever love might be, it was more complicated than the effort was worth. This constant play of trust and hurt with Lucien was nothing she wanted to go through again. She had been right to try to shove him off to another lady and let her life fall into its usual lull. To some, such a world might be dull, but for her, it was security in knowing what each day would bring.

“They came out together some time ago.” A woman’s sharp voice cut through Hannah’s thoughts.

Was that Lady Arksford?

Hannah was in no mood to put on airs to endure the acerbic woman and huddled back into a shadowed alcove to keep from being seen.