The Sum Of All Kisses Part 38

"I would never . . . do that." The words choked forth from his throat, but he had to say it. He had to make sure she understood. He was not his father. He would never be that man.

She shook her head, the motion so tiny he nearly missed it.

"Hurt you," he said. "I would never hurt you. I could never-"

"I know," she said, blessedly cutting off his awkward avowals. "You would never . . . You don't even need to say it."

He nodded, turning sharply away when he heard himself draw a short, tortured breath. It was the sort of sound one made right before losing oneself completely, and he couldn't-after everything that had happened that day- He could not go there. Not now. So he shrugged, as if an insouciant motion could flick it all away. But all it seemed to do was intensify the silence. And Hugh found himself in the same position he'd been in before she had asked about his mother, frozen near the door, not knowing what to do with himself.

"Did you sleep?" Sarah finally asked.

He nodded and found the momentum to move forward and settle into the chair Honoria had vacated. He hooked his cane over the arm and turned to look at her. "And you?"

"I did. I was overset. No, I was overcome." She tried to smile, and he could see that she was embarra.s.sed.

"It's all right," he started to say.

"No," she blurted out, "it's not, really. I mean, it will be, but-" She blinked like a cornered rabbit, then said, "I was so tired. I don't think I've ever been so tired."

"It's understandable."

She stared for a long moment, then said, "I don't know what came over me."

"I don't either," he admitted, "but I'm glad it did."

She did not speak for several seconds. "You have to marry me now."

"I had been planning to ask," he reminded her.

"I know"-she picked at the hem of her bedsheet-"but no one likes to be forced."

He reached out and grasped her hand. "I know."

"I-"

"You were forced," he said vehemently. "It is not fair, and if you wish to withdraw-"

"No!" She drew back, looking surprised by her outburst. "That is to say, no, I don't wish to withdraw. I can't really."

"You can't," he echoed, his voice dull.

"Well, no," she said, eyes flas.h.i.+ng with impatience. "Were you even listening today?"

"What I heard," he said with what he hoped was adequate patience, "was a woman sacrificing herself."

"And that's not what you did?" she shot back. "When you went to your father and threatened to kill yourself?"

"You can't compare the two. I caused this whole b.l.o.o.d.y mess. It is inc.u.mbent upon me to fix it."

"You're angry because you've been usurped?"

"No! For the love of-" He raked his hand through his hair. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"I would not dream of it. You're doing quite a job of it on your own."

"You should not have come to the White Hart," he said in a very low voice.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply."

"You did not know what sort of dangers awaited you."

She snorted. "Apparently neither did you!"

"My G.o.d, woman, must you be so stubborn? Don't you understand? I cannot protect you!"

"I didn't ask you to."

"I am to be your husband," he said, each word slicing his throat on the way to his lips. "It is my duty."

Her teeth were clenched so tightly that her chin was shaking. "Do you know," she ground out, "that since this afternoon, no one-not you, not your father, not even my cousin-has thanked me?"

Hugh's eyes flew to hers.

"No, don't say it now," she snapped. "Do you think I could possibly believe you? I went to the inn because I was so scared, because you and Daniel had painted a picture of a madman, and all I could think was that he was going to hurt you-"

"But-"

"Don't say that he would never hurt you. That man is stark raving mad. He would cut off your arm as long as he was a.s.sured you could still sire children."

Hugh blanched. He knew it was true, but he hated that she even had to think about it. "Sarah, I-"

"No." She jabbed her index finger toward him. "This is my turn. I'm speaking. You're being quiet."

"Forgive me," he said, so softly the words were but a whisper on his lips.

"No," she said, shaking her head as if she'd just seen a ghost. "You don't get to be nice now. You can't beg my forgiveness and expect me to . . . to . . ." Her throat convulsed with a choking sob. "Do you understand what you've put me through? In one single day?"

The tears were running freely down her cheeks, and it took all of Hugh's strength not to lean forward and kiss them away. He wanted to beg her not to cry, to apologize for this moment, and for the future, because he knew it would happen again. He could devote his life to one of her smiles, but at some point he would fail, and he would make her cry again, and it would wreck him.

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "Please don't cry," he begged.

"I'm not," she gasped, swiping away her tears with her sleeve.

"Sarah . . ."

"I'm not crying!" she sobbed.

He didn't argue. Instead, he sat beside her on the bed, and he held her and stroked her hair, and murmured nonsensical sounds of comfort until she sagged next to him, utterly spent.

"I can't imagine what you think of me," she finally whispered.

"I think," he said with every ounce of his soul, "that you are magnificent."

And that he did not deserve her.

She had come and saved the day; she had b.l.o.o.d.y well done what he and Daniel had not managed in nearly four years, and she'd done it while Hugh had been tied to a d.a.m.ned bed. Perhaps not at the exact moment of her triumph, but if he'd been freed, it was only because she had been the one to do it.

She had saved him. And while he understood that the circ.u.mstances of this particular situation were unique, it clawed at him that he would never be able to protect her as a husband was meant to protect his wife.

This was where any man worth his salt would step aside and allow her to marry someone else, someone better.

Someone whole.

Except that any man worth his salt wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with. Hugh had caused this debacle. He had been the one to get drunk and challenge an innocent man to a duel. He was the one with a bat-crazy father who required a threat of suicide to get him to leave Daniel alone. But Sarah was the one who was paying the price. And Hugh-even if he was that man worth his salt-couldn't possibly step aside. Because to do so would be to put Daniel in peril. And Sarah would be mortified.

And Hugh loved her too much to ever let her go.

I'm a selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"What?" Sarah murmured, not moving her head from the cradle of his chest.

Had he said that aloud?

"Hugh?" She s.h.i.+fted her position, her chin rising so that she could see his face.

"I can't let you go," he whispered.

"What are you talking about?" She moved again, pulling away, just enough so that she could look into his eyes.

She was frowning. He did not want to make her frown.

"I can't let you go," he said again, shaking his head in a slow, tiny motion.

"We're getting married," she said. Cautiously, like she wasn't sure why she was saying it. "You don't have to let me go."

"I should. I can't be the man you need."

She touched his cheek. "Isn't that for me to decide?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes against the awfulness of memory. "I hate that you had to see my father today."

"I hate it, too, but it's done."

He stared at her in amazement. When had she become so calm? Not five minutes earlier, she had been sobbing and he had been soothing her, and now she was clear-eyed, watching him with such peace and wisdom he could almost believe that their future was bright and uncomplicated.

"Thank you," he said.

She tilted her head to the side.

"For today. For so much more than today, but for now I'll stick with today."

"I-" Her mouth hung open in an indecisive oval, and then she said, "It seems a very strange thing about which to say, You're welcome."

He searched her face, although for what he was not certain. Perhaps he just wanted to look at her, at the deep chocolate warmth of her eyes and her wide, lush mouth that understood so well how to smile. He looked at her in amazement, and in wonder, as he recalled the fierce warrior of that afternoon. If she defended him so well, he could not imagine how she might be as a mother, with her own flesh and blood to protect.

"I love you," he said, the words tumbling from his lips. He was not sure he'd meant to say them, but now he could not stop. "I don't deserve you, but I love you, and I know you never thought to marry someone under such circ.u.mstances, but I vow that I will devote the rest of my life toward your happiness."

He took her hands to his lips and kissed them fervently, nearly undone by the force of his emotions. "Sarah Pleinsworth," he said, "will you marry me?"

Tears glistened on her lashes, and her lips quivered as she said, "We already-"

"But I did not ask you," he cut in. "You deserve to be asked. I don't have a ring, but I can get one later, and-"

"I don't need a ring," she blurted out. "I just need you."

He touched her cheek, his hand softly caressing her skin, and then- He kissed her. It came without thought-this urge, this hunger. His hand sank into the thick tumble of her hair as his lips devoured hers.

"Wait!" she gasped.

He pulled back, but just an inch.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "You didn't give me a chance to say it."

If he had had any hope of controlling his desire, it was lost in that moment. He kissed her mouth, her ear, her throat, and when she was on her back and he was over her, he took the delicate tie that held her gown together between his teeth and pulled open the knot.

She laughed, a throaty, wonderful sound that nevertheless startled him in so heated a moment.

"It was so easily undone," she said with a helpless smile. "I could not help but compare it to your father's knots this morning. And we're in bed, too!"

He couldn't help but grin, even though bed was the last place he ever wanted to think about his father.

"I'm sorry," she said with a giggle. "I couldn't help it."

"I wouldn't love you so well if you could," he teased.

"What does that mean?"

"Just that you have a marvelous ability to find humor in the most unexpected of places."

She touched his nose. "I found humor in you."

"Precisely."

Her lips came together in a rather satisfied smile. "I think- Oh!"

Clearly, she had just noticed his hand sliding up her leg.

"You were saying?" he murmured.