Rian looked at the almost full bottle of brandy he had
carried with him to his bed chamber and seriously
considered finishing it off, but the numbing effect would
be a temporary salve at best. With a sigh he set the bottle
on the dresser and began undressing, cursing his own
stupidity as he did so. What on earth had possessed him to
ask Catherine to marry him? Not that he didn’t want to wed
her, but the informality of his manner made the offer seem…
disreputable, somehow.
What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t and that was the problem. He’d simply blurted out
what he was feeling, which was his desire to spend the rest
of his life with her. Rian had only ever proposed once
before, and that had been a lifetime ago when youthful
exuberance could easily be excused for a breach of
etiquette. But he had no such excuse now. He was a grown
man who really ought to know how to propose marriage to a
woman without it sounding so off-the-cuff.
I’m thinking about making an offer for that rather fine
stallion Lord Wobbleychops is willing to part with, and if
you have no other pressing engagement would you consent to
be my wife afterwards?
The problem was he couldn’t think clearly when he was
around Catherine.
The problem was he loved Catherine.
The problem was he was in love with Catherine.
But none of that made any difference now. Her reaction had
spoken volumes, shattering any hope he may have held of
sharing a life with her. The sudden awkwardness that rose
between them, and the fact that she refused to look at him,
could not have made her answer more clear.
Her request that he ask again in the morning was an obvious
ploy. It would give her time to fabricate a refusal that
would not cut him to the quick. One that would spare his
pride. Although she was, most likely, hoping he had enough
brains not to ask again.
“Damn it all to hell, but you’re an absolute ass!” he
declared, berating his reflection in the mirror.
He was behaving like a lovesick swain when he was older
than Catherine by a decade at least, and ought to know
better. Well, he had told himself that if she wanted no
part of him then, he would hear it from her own lips, and
Liam could not fault him for his listening skills this
time.
In the morning he would tell Catherine that it was not too
late for a future with Lord Edward Barclay. It didn’t
matter that she was not in love with him. The young man
with the fiery red hair was still in love with her, and
that could be enough for both of them. She had admitted she
still cared for her childhood friend, and always would.
Marriages had been built on far less. And if anyone could
help the young man find the strength to stand up to his
formidable mother, it would be Catherine.
The decision made, Rian did his best to ignore the hollow
ache in his chest. The grief of loss was already starting
to suffuse him. Turning around, he gasped, the breath
caught in his throat as Catherine took a step toward him.