Page 69 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You’re not listening to me, Fletcher,” Agnes yelled. “I cannot marry you. I will not.”
Fletcher ignored the pounding of his heart and stared at Agnes’s face. Something wasn’t right. She’d come to his townhome and was effectively trying to break off their engagement.
“You’re damn right I’m not listening. Not until you tell me the truth about what is going on. What has changed?”
“I changed my mind,” she said with a shrug. “It isn’t more complicated than that. You knew I didn’t want to marry, this shouldn’t come as a huge surprise.”
She was lying. “The announcement is to be printed in tomorrow’s papers. I cannot change that.”
Her skin looked pale with the exception of the dark circles beneath her eyes. “I’m breaking the engagement. It is my choice—my fault—and your reputation shouldn’t suffer.”
He closed the distance between them, backing her up so that she was stuck between him and the bookshelf behind her. He reached up and swirled the curl by her ear, winding it around his finger.
She shuddered beneath his touch. She still wanted him.
“You know, I knew the first moment I saw you that you were meant to be mine.”
Her breath caught, but she said nothing.
“It was the most visceral experience I’ve ever had,” he continued. “Still, I didn’t think I deserved you, so when your brother told me you were off-limits, I used him as an excuse to not pursue you. I didn’t fight for you when I should have, but I never stopped wanting you.” He leaned forward, traced his nose up her neck to her ear. She smelled of cinnamon, warm bread, and home. “I know I don’t deserve you. You’re everything that is good and beautiful and perfect in the world. But you know, Agnes, no one deserves you.”
She stared into his eyes. He searched her features. The pulse in her throat tapped a rapid beat beneath her pale skin. And still she said nothing.
“I’ve decided that if anyone is going to have you, it’s going to be me. So, you might not understand this, and you might think you can fight it, but hear my words—I will never walk away from you again. You are mine. No one else’s and eventually you’ll acknowledge that, because I will never stop pursuing you.”
He tipped her chin up and latched his mouth onto hers in a soul-searing kiss. He would never let her go without a fight again.
He stepped away from her.
She sucked in a breath and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Fletcher.” Then she turned on her heel and ran from his study.
Two days later and Fletcher still hadn’t heard back from Agnes.
It was the only reason he had attended this damned ball tonight. He’d waited long enough and it was time to convince Agnes that they belonged together. He loved her. He knew she loved him, even if she didn’t believe that herself. Over time, she’d come to see the truth.
He couldn’t blame her for her reluctance to believe in love. Her parents had a nonexistent relationship. He certainly hadn’t come from a family who freely gave their affection.
He knew she was here, he’d seen a glimpse of her earlier, but he’d somehow lost her in the crowd. It took another loop around the ballroom before he was convinced she was no longer inside. He’d have to look for her elsewhere. The chilled rain outside meant the terraces were closed and no one was venturing into the gardens. To make amends for a lack of outdoor spaces, Lord and Lady Conventry had opened up additional rooms including an armory, a music room, and a second dining room.
The corridors were filled with people and murmurs, and he wanted to be done with all of it. Once he found Agnes, he’d sweep her out of here where they could be alone. Hell, maybe they’d travel up to Scotland and be married by the following day. He wouldn’t even need a special license for such a thing.
Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into the darkened alcove behind the staircase. He turned hoping to find Agnes, but instead came face-to-face with Celeste. Her red hair was piled artfully on top of her head with only a few curls loose to brush her nearly bare shoulders.
She smiled seductively and ran a hand down his chest. “Fletcher,” she said his name in a caress.
There had been a time her beauty and brazen sexuality had driven him wild, but he’d felt no desire for her in several years. Now the only thing pulsing through him was revulsion.
“Celeste, where is your husband?”
She flitted her hand behind her in a casual motion. “Playing cards or some such nonsense.”
He tried to move away from her, but her hand on his arm stopped him.
“Don’t you miss me?” she asked. Her full lips settled into a pout.
His stomach turned, and he wondered if he’d ever found this woman appealing. “No, I don’t. You are married and as I’ve told you before, I do not sleep with married women.”
