Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,85

I command you to forgive yourself—for you and me.”

He cupped her face, his large hand splaying hotly against her skin. “I love you, Lilias. I have loved you since the day I first saw you crossing that log barefoot.”

“And I love you,” she said, melting into him as he brushed his lips to hers now. “I have loved you since the day you jumped into the river to save me, then dragged me out and chastised me like the moody, imperfect hero you are.”

Nash arched his eyebrows. “There’s such a thing as an imperfect hero?”

“Oh yes,” she said, sighing into his mouth as it covered her in a greedy kiss. His lips were warm and persuasive, and the series of slow, deep kisses he gave her made her knees weak. When he pulled back, she said, “The most glorious heroes are imperfect ones, Nash, because they, more than any others, need their heroines.”

“Ah,” he replied, tracing a line of feathery kisses up to her mouth once more. “That sounds just like me, because I need you with me from this moment until forever. Marry me, Lilias,” he said, sliding his hands from her face to her back to hold her tight. “Marry me and let me spend my life loving you.”

“I thought you would never ask,” she said, circling her arms around his neck, and meeting his hungry kiss with one of her own.

The next day, Lilias stood hand in hand with Nash as he confronted his mother. Lilias wasn’t the least bit worried when the dowager duchess shot her a withering glare. Lilias had seen what Nash was capable of last night, the lengths he would go to in order to keep her safe. Not only had he stopped Levine from hurting her but Nash had deftly dealt with the authorities in getting Levine carted off. She suspected, Levine would end up in Bedlam with his actions and the way he’d raved as they’d taken him away.

Nash had seen her safely home after that and had placated her mother, who was awake and frantic, and then charmingly and politely asked her mother for permission to marry Lilias. Of course, Mama had promptly granted it. And then this morning, he’d shown up as soon as the calling hour had rolled around, Helen Levine’s manuscript in hand. After assuring her mother he’d have her home at an appropriate hour, he’d taken her to Lady Katherine’s and sat in his carriage as Lilias assured the woman that the manuscript would be properly destroyed.

And now they were here so Nash could confront the past that had haunted him most of his adult life. He had not spoken much of it, but his mood had grown increasingly quiet as they approached his home and his face had become set in hard lines. But still, she wasn’t worried. They had each other, and whatever secrets might be revealed, if they faced them together, she felt sure they would only grow stronger in their love.

“Why is she here?” his mother demanded, her glare turning glacial. “I demand she leave,” the duchess said before Nash could respond to her.

“Lilias is not leaving, Mother, or not permanently anyway. You are.”

“What do ye mean?” his mother asked coolly, and she quickly followed the question with, “Do not be ridiculous. This… This—” his mother waved a hand at Lilias “—person needs to go. She’s not yer family. I am. Yer sister is.”

Nash’s fingers tightened around Lilias’s, and his shoulders subtly stiffened. She squeezed to remind him she was there for him. She caught his side glance and grateful smile, and then the fierce scowl he directed at his mother. “Lilias has agreed to become my wife, so very soon she will be staying forever, and there is no room in this house for the darkness you bring it. You can move to any house of mine you wish, except the Cotswold home or this one.”

“Ye cannot wed this woman. Ye must wed Miss Balfour. I’ve…I’ve promised Dr. Balfour.”

Annoyance settled on his face. “Why would you do that, Mother?”

Lilias found herself almost leaning toward the woman to see what she would say, but she said nothing. Instead, the woman pressed her lips together.

Nash shifted and then spoke again. “I’ve been recalling things, Mother. Things about the day Thomas died. Things I suppose I buried because they were too painful.”

Lilias felt his hurt in her own chest. She moved closer to him, and he slid his arm around her waist as if