Chapter Thirty-Two
Tristan lost himself in the transcendent power of kissing Leticia. He had meant to convince her he loved her, but the strength of their passion and the depth of belonging that overcame him the moment he pressed his lips to hers took him by surprise. She sank against him and kissed him with all the tenderness and hunger also raging through him.
He’d never felt more complete or more certain of his path. Leticia loved him. She would never leave him.
Though his body screamed to stoke the fire blazing between them, he slowed the rate of their ardor to short, sweet kisses. Then he pressed his lips to her cheek, the hollow behind her ear, her brow, her forehead. He set a chaste kiss on her lips and cradled her face. With his uneven breathing—and hers—breaking the silence of the room, he rested his forehead on hers and grappled with his self-control. As he lifted his head, he gazed at her, admiring the curve of her cheek, the arch of her brow, the moist redness of her lips plump from kissing.
“I love you, Leticia.”
She opened her eyes. Tears glistened her eyes and fell onto her cheeks. “Heaven help me, but I love you, too.”
Using the pad of his thumbs, he wiped away her tears. “Heaven help us both, because I mean to marry you.”
She smiled again, but something akin to pain dimmed the joy that should have been there. “I don’t know if we should…”
“If I can trust you with my heart, you can trust me with yours, can’t you?”
“Trust me with your heart.” Her eyes widened. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“I always have.”
She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him, the sweet kiss of promise. “Forgive me for doubting you. I do trust you.”
“Marry me.”
She let out a long breath. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s very simple.” He enfolded both of her hands with his and tried to keep his tone confident and persuasive instead of desperate. “I will approach your father, vow to treat you like a queen and love you faithfully all my life, assure him that I have adequate means to provide a comfortable life for you and our future children, and beg him to let me marry you.”
“Tristan.”
“Then we will purchase a marriage license and get married—unless you’d rather post banns.”
“Tristan.”
“I’ll carry you over the threshold…”
“Tristan.”
“Then I’ll show you why reformed rakes make the best husbands.” He grinned rakishly.
“Tristan!”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, my love?”
She smiled at the term of endearment but looked down and squeezed his hands. “I…well, I…have an understanding with Lord Bradbury.”
All the warmth inside him froze. “Has he formally asked for your hand?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Did he speak to your aunt? Seek your father’s permission?”
“No.” She drew out the word.
He let out a pent-up breath. “Then you tell him that you came to the realization that you don’t suit.”
She sighed. “You know it’s not that easy.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated. You love me, and I love you, and we belong together. No two people were created for each other as perfectly as we are.”
The front door knocker boomed and the butler’s voice in the great hall carried to them. “One moment, Lord Bradbury, and I will announce you.”
Tristan let out his breath in disgust. What timing!
“Oh, dear,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “Now is your chance. Tell him. It would be cruel to allow him to believe a minute longer than necessary that you will have him.”
She drew a shaking breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’d best tell him right away.”
“Ah, there you are, dear.” Leticia’s aunt appeared in the doorway.
“Aunt.” Leticia glanced at Tristan. Clear dread at the conversation she must have with Lord Bradbury halted her speech. At Tristan’s reassuring look, she straightened as if finding her resolve. “Aunt, I must speak to Lord Bradbury as alone as propriety will allow.”
Something in her tone must have revealed her intent, because Mrs. Tallier glanced at Tristan and she nodded with a knowing glint in her eye. “I understand, my dear. You may use the front parlor. I will be in the foyer, arranging the flowers.”
Leticia greeted Lord Bradbury and, after a nervous glance over her shoulder at Tristan, invited him to join her in the parlor. Standing alone in the breakfast room, Tristan gripped the back of a chair lest he give into the temptation to rush to Leticia’s side. She must do this alone, of course. Moreover, Bradbury deserved to keep his dignity while Leticia rejected him.
A commotion at the front door interrupted his thoughts. Her aunt’s voice exclaimed, and a male voice replied, to which her aunt let out something akin to a shriek.
Tristan dashed to the foyer and pulled up short. The footman, Peter, who always accompanied Miss Harper, carried in the young teacher. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she buried her face in his neck cloth. Her shoulders shook and muffled weeping broke the silence.
“What has happened?” Leticia rushed to her side.
“She was attacked,” Peter said grimly, oblivious to his own battered, swollen face.
Primal anger rose up in Tristan. “Who was it?” he demanded.
Peter said, “The bloke what showed up and dragged off his daughter a while back.” The footman met their stunned stares with the ferocity of a savage.
“Are you hurt, Mrs. Harper?” Leticia put her hand on the teacher’s back.
“He hit her,” Peter snarled through clenched teeth. He swallowed, and added, “I think I killed him.”
“Get the doctor,” Leticia said to the butler. “And fetch a constable.”
As the butler sent runners, Tristan patted his back pocket where he kept his pistol. It remained secure. “Send the constable to the school. I’ll go there now.”
Lord Bradbury stared at Tristan. “What are you doing here, Barrett?”
“I invited him to join us for breakfast,” Mrs. Tallier said.
“Peter, take Mrs. Harper to her room,” Leticia directed.
“I’ll show you the way,” Aunt Alice said.
Still cradling the teacher in his arms, Peter carried Mrs. Harper up the stairs behind Aunt Alice. Leticia put a hand on her head, as the full weight of what happened seemed to have landed on her shoulders. The thought of the gentle teacher suffering an attack left a sick heaviness in Tristan’s stomach. Was Leticia in danger as well?
“That’s it.” Lord Bradbury drew himself up and addressed Leticia. “The school is closed. This has gone too far.”
“No!” Leticia said. “We can’t give up now.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Lord Bradbury said.
Leticia spread her hands. “If we close the school, everyone who said we shouldn’t do it will win. The children lose.”
“I won’t let you risk your safety for a bunch of street urchins.” His voice left no room for argument, as if it were his decision alone to make.
Tristan took a step closer to Leticia, ready to back her up if she needed him. Though he understood the desire to protect her, he couldn’t agree with Bradbury’s solution or his heavy-handed approach. Instead of becoming angry, Leticia looked at Bradbury with beseeching eyes. With quiet determination, she said, “If we won’t, who will?”
Bradbury opened his mouth then closed it. He glanced at Tristan as if seeking an ally.
Tristan shook his head. “No one cares for these children. If we don’t help them, they will grow up unloved, unwanted, and unworthy. They will spend all their lives scrabbling for food and never have the self-possession to seek a better life.”
Leticia had given that to them; she could give that to others. Tristan would help her any way possible.
Leticia’s eyes shone as she gazed up at him, admiration so clear. His chest swelled in pride. He glanced at Bradbury who studied him.
Tristan slipped his hand into Leticia’s and faced Bradbury, daring him to contradict. “We will hire more security, and perhaps look for a different neighborhood, but the school remains open.”
Bradbury addressed Leticia. “I won’t allow you to put yourself at risk.”
Leticia shook her head. “My lord, this is a conversation for another time.”
Bradbury went very still and glanced at Tristan warily. To Leticia, he nodded. “Of course.”
Tristan squeezed her hand. “I’m going to the school to see what became of the attacker.”
Leticia handed him a key. “Be careful.”
Though tempted to kiss Leticia in front of Bradbury and thus stake his claim, Tristan nodded and left, vowing to do all he could to protect the school, its teacher, and most of all his beloved Leticia.