Undressed with the Marquess (Lost Lords of London #3) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,28
been so adamant that she’d never accompany Dare, thought of what he’d presented—in a new light, and in a new way. She could provide Chance with the ultimate protection and security she’d never been able to fully ensure when he was a child.
“I’ll shape the narrative,” she mouthed to herself. She would decide what she was willing to give and what she was willing to do.
When presented that way, it was an altogether different manner of thinking.
Why . . . why . . . he didn’t necessarily want her to be a real wife to him. A real wife who shared kisses and tender touches and a bed and . . . babies.
Every muscle within her seized up.
Stop . . .
Focus on the arrangement. Focus on what he might give you . . .
Except as soon as the question slipped out, a memory slipped in. “I want forever with you, Dare Grey. Anything else will never be enough . . .”
“Forever for me will be short, Temperance Grey . . . because of the life I live. But what time I do walk this earth? It is yours.”
Her throat closed up from the long-ago memory, fresh still. It is yours, he’d vowed. How soon after they’d exchanged vows, however, before he’d gone off and set to work stealing, leaving her to her own devices?
Nooooooo . . . Please, nooooo . . .
Her agonized screams sounded over and over in her mind, and she fought the urge to clap her palms over her ears to blot out those cries.
Gwynn sighed. “What . . . are you thinking?” her friend asked haltingly, her voice coming across the distance.
Returning to her friend’s side, Temperance took her face in her hands and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “That you are brilliant.”
Her friend wrinkled her brow. “I . . . thank you?” And then understanding glinted in the other woman’s eyes. “You’re going,” she whispered.
She nodded. “And you’re joining me.”
Gwynn choked on her laughter. “Now I know you’re jesting.” Her friend gave her head a shake.
“I am not.” She spoke with a quiet insistence that brought the other woman’s gaze back up. “If I go . . . then you shall come.”
“Well, that is silly,” her friend said with a toss of her glorious golden curls. “I don’t belong there. You, however, married into that life.”
The other woman was splitting hairs. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.” Color splotched Gwynn’s cheeks, indicating Temperance had hit the nail on the head. “If I am doing this, you are coming with me.”
“I can be your lady’s maid.” Another snorting laugh escaped the young woman as she dipped a graceless, haphazard curtsy.
Temperance gave her a light shove, earning another guffaw from the other woman. “I’m glad you find humor in this, Gwynn,” she said softly. “If you join me in London, then you will be near Chance.”
The other woman started, her lips forming a little circle. She gave a juddering nod. “Yes!” Taking Temperance by the shoulders, she gave her a light shake. “I will join you.” Her expression grew stricken. “That is, if you manage to find him before he leaves.”
“Before he . . .” As one, they glanced to the pretty painted porcelain clock Temperance’s brother had gifted her for her birthday three years earlier. “Oh, bloody hell.”
He was leaving.
Sleep on it. I leave on the morrow. In the event you change your mind, you can find me at the Black Seal.
That was, if he’d not already left. And he’d always been the earliest of risers. Temperance cursed.
Gwynn shoved her gently. “Hurry!”
Temperance took off running.
As she readied the old horse Chance had purchased for them some years ago and climbed into the saddle, Temperance steeled herself.
This time it would be different.
It had to be.
Because there could never be a future with him. Not a true one.
Ever.
Chapter 7
She hadn’t come.
Though in truth, having come here, he’d known all along that the end result would be her refusal.
Nor did he blame her.
For all the passion and love that had been between them, there had been an absolute lack of timing. Their lives had never been synchronous to their relationship.
This time, her presence in his life had been the difference between him earning a fortune . . . and not. Her rejection left him with the task of returning to the duke and duchess and explaining that though there was a wife, the terms they’d put to him could not be carried out. Not in the way they wished.