Page 87 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“I’m not here to make you feel guilty,” she said. “I know who your father was. That’s hardly your fault.”

“And I know who you are.”

“Do you?” She had to laugh. “Because sometimes I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then I’ll tell you, shall I?” he said, nudging her away and down the street to a safer corner, where the carriage waited. “You are the bravest, kindest woman I know. You are appallingly messy. You steal the covers. You do not share cake. And I love you for it. All of it.”

The ice in her chest that had started melting earlier when he told her she was not too much, that he had not been enough, was gone now. She wasn’t cold even with the snow crunching under her boots, with her ankle aching.

“You can’t just turn your back on Society,” she said quietly. “I know you too, Keir.”

“Of course I can. Sybil, I followed those rules and became an insufferable prig to protect you. And then you were abducted. That rock through your window could have been a bullet. I’m going to keep protecting you, but I’m going to love you too, damn it. And Society can adapt or they can go hang.”

“It’s not that simple.” She waved her hand, encompassing the alleys teeming with dirt and desperation behind them.

“It’s even simpler. I love you. There is nothing simpler.”

He sounded so sure.

She wanted it to be enough.

“You’re scared,” he realized. “My little rebel, who never found a rule she did not relish breaking, is scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

She was terrified.

He smiled briefly. The ass.

“I will have you any way you choose, Sybil. I’m not ashamed of you. I am tired of hiding. I want the world to know you are mine and I am yours. But it’s enough that you know it.” He opened the carriage door. “For now.”