A Rogue to the Rescue (The Rogue Chronicles #4) - Lana Williams Page 0,71

was to see the ball through her eyes.

The butler served their breakfast as they spoke of some of the people she’d met who’d mentioned one need or another.

“Tell me more of your plan for the introduction agency,” he requested.

Her eyes lit up as she shared the various ideas she had as well as the ones she was still considering.

He offered advice when she asked, though she seemed to have the matter well in hand.

Daniel was impressed by the thoroughness of her plans. She’d already considered the various pitfalls that could be encountered. Her determination to treat the potential workers with respect, along with the employers, was admirable.

The topic shifted to other issues, but Daniel couldn’t get the question of their betrothal from his mind. At last, he could stand it no more. Why not simply ask and be done with it instead of worrying?

“Beatrice, I must ask if the evening changed your mind.” He held her gaze, certain he’d see the answer in her eyes. “About us.”

“How do you mean?” Her brow wrinkled in concern.

“There are other gentlemen eager to call on you.” He couldn’t bring himself to mention Chivington’s name. “The evening must’ve shown you that.”

She stiffened, her gaze dropping to her empty plate and hiding her thoughts. “Please know I would never hold you to our betrothal if you wished to break it.” Her lips tightened briefly. “My circumstances are not easy, and I appreciate that they might be more than you would prefer to have in a wife.”

“Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” He reached out to briefly brush her arm, wanting to reassure her, even as he searched for the right way to explain himself. “I don’t want you to feel pressured by my proposal. Perhaps I should’ve waited to ask for your hand until you’d had the chance to attend a few social events so you had a better understanding of just how desirable you are.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, amazement in their depths as if he’d suggested she might wish to fly across the Channel.

What could he do but continue to explain what he meant even if it felt as if each word coming out of his mouth only deepened the hole in which he’d stepped?

“I didn’t want you to worry about taking a position in someone’s household if that wasn’t what you wanted. But by acting rashly—”

“You feel your proposal was rash?” The look of alarm on her face caused his heart to pound uncomfortably.

“Not at all. I know my own mind—”

“But you don’t think I know mine.” The chill in her grey eyes reminded him of a stormy winter sea.

“You have a wonderful mind.” Dear heaven, how had his simple question come to this? “However, you’ve been through so much of late.”

“And you think it’s been too much for me. That any decision I make would be made for the wrong reasons.”

“Yes. No.” He closed his eyes briefly. “No. Allow me to try again.” Thank heaven Richard and Caroline hadn’t yet joined them to witness his utter failure with this exchange.

“Please do.” Beatrice pushed her chair back from the table, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at him expectantly with one brow raised.

Why had he not realized how much backbone the woman had?

He admonished himself for the question. That should’ve been clear given the fact that she’d escaped the brothel despite being locked in and drugged. Beatrice had spirit in spades. It was another quality of hers that he found incredibly attractive. Perhaps not at this particular moment when it was directed at him but attractive still.

“I should very much like to marry you if you’ll have me.” Especially after the stuttering mess he’d made of the conversation. “I was merely suggesting that if you would like to explore your...options with other men, I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured to marry me.”

There. Surely that explained his position. He watched her warily, wondering if he’d made yet another mistake.

“I see.” She stared at something across the room, leaving him to worry about her thoughts.

When she said nothing for a long moment, his concern grew. Did he dare take her hand? He desperately wanted to re-establish the connection he normally felt with her. Anything would be better than the vast crevice that now stretched between them.

“I should very much like to marry you,” he added. Would repeating it help cross that distance? Though tempted to simply take her in his arms and kiss her until she said yes