your brother by then, we’ll meet with him and your mother.”
“And then?”
“We’ll tell my parents.”
“Do you think they’ll approve?”
“They’ll be thrilled.” His mother would be ecstatic.
“And where will we live?”
“Would you prefer the city or the country?”
She hugged his arm. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”
Would that be her answer if she knew the truth? “Tabetha…” He needed to tell her before digging himself into an even deeper hole. “You’ve wanted to be in London for as long as I’ve known you.”
It wasn’t much, but it was the truth.
“What if I was wrong?” she asked. “What if I changed my mind?”
“We won’t know that until your memory returns.” The perfect excuse presented itself. “I don’t want to make any decisions until then.” Because everything was going to change. A person didn’t throw off dreams they’d nurtured all their life that easily.
Even if he couldn’t provide her with a title, he had more than enough funds to provide a fashionable Mayfair townhouse for her to live in. He only hoped she allowed him to live there with her.
Chapter 23
Dreaming Together
“What if I never remember?” Tabetha persisted, injecting a forlorn tone into her voice. Of course, delaying decisions regarding their future until after her memory returned gave him the perfect excuse to avoid answering her questions.
“We won’t worry about that unless we have to.” He patted her hand, not in a condescending way, but as though he truly cared about her worries.
She snuggled beside him and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a smidgeon of guilt—but only a smidgeon—for not telling him she had remembered almost everything. As the day wore on, in the least likely moments, new pieces of information slipped into the space of her consciousness.
Not all of it was welcomed.
She’d been a fool about Culpepper. He was a disgusting and vile creature, and she’d been willing to hand her life to him in return for a title. And he hadn’t really even wanted her; he’d only wanted her dowry.
Just as troublesome was her treatment of Stone. She’d considered him a tremendous annoyance as he’d trailed after her following her come out. He’d never been far away, and he’d watched every person who approached her suspiciously. How was it that the same behavior on his part didn’t bother her at all now? In fact, she appreciated it!
She’d treated him horrendously, dismissing him because he wasn’t his father’s heir. She’d acted like a spoiled brat.
But now, she was faced with some uncertainties. Had he only been so diligent because of the bet he’d lost to her brother, or was something else motivating him?
Even if he’d only done so to honor the bet initially, was that still the case?
Most importantly: Did he mean it when he’d told her he loved her?
Remembering her brother wasn’t an altogether pleasant realization either. Westerley was going to kill her for taking off with Culpepper! Would he be angry with Stone for marrying her, or would he be grateful to not have her as a responsibility any longer?
It would be a miracle if he didn’t call one of them out. A chill trickled down her spine. Her brother mustn’t duel anyone. Not Culpepper nor Stone.
Her family had the worst luck when it came to duels. Her brother had accidentally shot her sister in one duel, and their father had been killed in another.
A wave of guilt rolled through her at the thought of her father.
“Before I fell down the stairs,” she pressed, “what plans did you have for our future? Not for the first few days, but for the first year?”
Needing to not only hear his answer but comprehend how truthful it may or may not be, she turned her head and watched his reaction to this question. This time, he didn’t tense up with that closed-off look. Instead, his shoulders fell and he sighed, as though relinquishing some invisible barrier.
“I have an estate in Kent.” His smile was more of a grimace. “Warton Cottage has been operational, but it’s sat empty for some time. I thought you might enjoy decorating it.”
He wasn’t lying about this. She remembered his sister, Lady Hawthorne, telling her that her father had purchased estates for all of her brothers. Even the daughter had inherited an estate apart from her husband, although it had been bequeathed by an aunt.
“And then, I thought, we could fill it with children.” He slid her a glance, one eyebrow lifted as though asking a question.