Kathleen was driven to break the silence first. “What happened in Hampshire —”
“We’ll discuss that later.” Devon removed his coat and tossed it to the corner with a carelessness that would have made his valet weep. “First we’re going to talk about what impulse of madness caused you to put yourself at risk the way you did tonight.”
“I wasn’t at risk. Winterborne wouldn’t have harmed me. He’s your friend.”
“Are you that naïve?” His expression was positively feral as he stripped off his waistcoat. The garment was hurled aside with such force that she could hear buttons crack as they hit the wall. “You went uninvited to a man’s house and talked alone with him. You know that most men would interpret that as an invitation to do whatever they wanted with you. Holy hell, you didn’t even dare to visit Theo in that manner when he was your fiancé!”
“I did it for Helen.”
“You should have come to me first.”
“I didn’t think you’d listen, or agree with what I had to say.”
“I’ll always listen. I won’t always agree.” Devon yanked at the knot of his necktie and ripped the detachable collar from his shirt. “Understand this, Kathleen: You are never to put yourself in that position again. Seeing Winterborne leaning over you… My God, the bastard didn’t know how close I was to killing him.”
“Stop doing this,” she cried fiercely. “You’ll drive me mad. You want to behave as if I belong to you, but I don’t, and I never will. Your worst nightmare is becoming a husband and father, and so you seem determined to form some kind of lesser attachment that I do not want. Even if I were pregnant and you felt duty-bound to propose, I would still refuse you, because I know it would make you as unhappy as it would make me.”
Devon’s intensity didn’t lessen, but it changed from anger into something else. He held her with a gaze of hot blue infinity.
“What if I said I loved you?” he asked softly.
The question drove a spike of pain through her chest. “Don’t.” Her eyes smarted with tears. “You’re not the kind of man who could ever say that and mean it.”
“It’s not who I was.” His voice was steady. “But it’s who I am now. You’ve shown me.”
For at least a half minute, the only sound was the crackling, shivering fire on the hearth.
She didn’t understand what he truly thought or felt. But she would be a fool to believe him.
“Devon,” she eventually said, “when it comes to love… neither you nor I can trust your promises.”
She couldn’t see through the glittering film of misery, but she was aware of him moving, bending to pick up the coat he had tossed aside, rummaging for something.
He came to her, catching her arm lightly in his hand, drawing her to the bed. The mattress was so high that he had to fit his hands around her waist and hoist her upward to sit on it. He set something on her lap.
“What is this?” She looked down at a small wooden box.
His expression was unfathomable. “A gift for you.”
Her sharp tongue got the better of her. “A parting gift?”
Devon scowled. “Open it.”
Obeying, she lifted the lid. The box was lined with red velvet. Pulling aside a protective layer of cloth, she uncovered a tiny gold pocket watch on a long chain, the casing delicately engraved with flowers and leaves. A glass window on the hinged front cover revealed a white enamel dial and black hour and minute markers.
“It belonged to my mother,” she heard Devon say. “It’s the only possession of hers that I have. She never carried it.” Irony edged his voice. “Time was never important to her.”
Kathleen glanced at him in despair. She parted her lips to speak, but his fingertips came to her mouth with gentle pressure.
“Time is what I’m giving you,” he said, staring down at her. His hand curved beneath her chin, compelling her to look at him. “There’s only one way for me to prove that I will love you and be faithful to you for the rest of my life. And that’s by loving you and being faithful to you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t want me. Even if you choose not to be with me. I’m giving you all the time I have left. I vow to you that from this moment on, I will never touch another woman, or give my heart to anyone but you. If I have to wait sixty years, not a minute will have been wasted – because I’ll have spent all of them loving you.”
Kathleen regarded him with wonder, a perilous warmth rising until it pushed fresh tears from her eyes.
Cradling her face in both hands, Devon bent to kiss her in a brush of soft fire. “That being said,” he whispered, “I hope you’ll consider marrying me sooner rather than later.” Another kiss, slow and devastating. “Because I long for you, Kathleen, my dearest love. I want to sleep with you every night, and wake with you every morning.” His mouth caressed her with deepening pressure until her arms curled around his neck. “And I want children with you. Soon.”
The truth was there, in his voice, his eyes, on his lips. She could taste it.
She realized in wonder that somehow, in the past months, his heart had indeed changed. He was becoming the man fate had intended for him to be… his true self… a man who could make commitments and meet his responsibilities, and most of all, love without holding anything back.
Sixty years? A man like that shouldn’t have to wait even sixty seconds.
Fumbling a little with the watch chain, she lifted it and slipped it over her head. The glimmering gold timepiece settled over her heart. She looked up at him with swimming eyes. “I love you, Devon. Yes, I’ll marry you, yes —”