Page 35 of To Break the Rules

“Perhaps you weren’t, though, my lord,” Lucia said, hating herself for saying it. “My price has risen so high I’d be a fool not to consider it.”

He stared at her, with such intensity that her skin seared with the force of his gaze. His jaw was rigid with tension, and then he let out a breath. “You’re lying. You’d not consider it for a moment. You’d never put yourself under a man’s power, unless—”

“Unless I was desperate?” she asked, giving him a sweet smile.

He moved, his hands framing her face, his touch gentle, reverent. “Is that true?”

She tried to look away from him, furious with herself for the tears that prickled behind her eyes, tears he saw. Damn him. He made her weak, made her doubt herself. She couldn’t allow it.

His thumbs stroked her cheeks, such a tender gesture that a tear spilled over, sliding down her face.

“Lucia,” he said again, her name a whisper of warmth against her lips. “Let me protect you. Marry me, love. I know you’re in trouble, and I know Ulceby is at the heart of it. He’s a dangerous man, darling, and one I don’t doubt deserves retribution. Let me help you. Whatever it is, I swear… I will help you, and I will keep you safe.”

Lucia’s breath caught in her throat, torn between the shock of his proposal and the terror of him realising she meant to take her revenge on the earl.

If the temptation to trust in him had been tantalising, the temptation to accept his offer was doubly so. She would be safe, with the protection of his name, his wealth. Even if she failed in her goal, there would be safety. Except there wouldn’t, not when he discovered the truth. He would hate her for her lies, and he’d be a source of ridicule. Likely he’d have the marriage annulled, it would be easy enough for him to do, and then she’d have that indignity to bear too. No. She could not subject either of them to that.

She stared up at him, curling her hands about his wrists. “You don’t know me, my lord, and you cannot protect me.”

Lucia pulled his hands away from her face, seeing the frustration in his eyes as she did so.

“You underestimate me,” he said, sounding annoyed as she put space between them.

A little huff of laughter escaped her, and she smiled at him.

“No,” she said gently. “You underestimate me, and exactly what it is you would be getting involved in.”

“I don’t care!” The words were sharp and reckless, and she felt a stab of pain at the sound because she’d heard them before, spoken in almost the exact same tone of voice.

She saw the truth in his eyes, but she thought she’d seen that same look before, too.

He was lying to himself and to her.

He would care, once he knew.

Lucia waited, wondering what he would do next, and she was not entirely surprised when he took the little silver trishul from his pocket and held it out to her.

“I know it’s Indian. It represents the goddess Kali’s trishul. You put it in Edgar Bindley’s pocket, and when Ulceby saw it he had an apoplexy. You drew the same thing in his study the night of the ball. It means something to Ulceby, and to you. You’re going to take your revenge on him, but for what, Lucia?” His voice was hard and angry now, yet filled with concern and Lucia swallowed hard, appalled that he’d already figured out so much. “You were at the ball and the garden party, you flirted with his son, but neither of them knows you, so what the bloody hell is going on?”

Lucia turned away from him, walking to the window and staring out. She trembled, sweating though her skin felt like ice.

“I would like you to leave now,” she said, fighting to keep her voice calm and even.

“The hell I will!”

He crossed the room and took her arm forcing her to face him once more. She gasped at the look in his eyes.

“He’ll destroy you, Lucia,” he said, such pain behind the words that her throat grew tight. “Please… please, love. Tell me, confide in me. I won’t let you down if you would only trust me.”

Lucia let out a breath of laughter and closed her eyes.

“Such promises men make,” she whispered. “Promises spoken with such fervour, such love. They’re so beguiling. They make you believe.” She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her and when she spoke again, the words were cold and hard. “They’re an illusion. There is no safety, no one to protect me. Only myself. I won’t repeat the mistakes of the past, Lord Cavendish. That would be foolish.”

She strode to the door, not looking back.

“I hope you can see yourself out,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 10