ŷ������

“What are you doing here?��

The growled, slightly rough question suggested he wasn’t happy to see her. She wasn’t about to let that turn her from her path either; she knew what she knew. Halting before him, she tipped up her head and met his eyes. “I’m here because . . . well, I suppose you could say I’m taking up residence. Here, in your house.��

For a moment, he didn’t react, then he blinked. Slowly. “What?��

She waved over her shoulder, toward the rest of the house. “Rundle and the others are taking my trunks upstairs. We decided to put them in the room next to yours. It seemed the most appropriate place.��

He dragged in a breath; when he met her eyes again his impassive mask was gone. Completely gone. Raw emotion filled his face. “Heroine. . . no. You can’t do this.��

She arched her brows. “Can’t I?��

“You’re not thinking clearly.�� His eyes searched hers, saw the determination and resolution she made no effort to hide. He raked a hand through his hair and swung away to face the fire. “I can’t let you do this.��

She closed the distance; from behind him, she slipped her arms around his chest, laid her temple against his collar. “Yes, you can. I want a family, I always have, and I want to create that family with you. I know you want a family of your own as much as I do—I’ve seen you with your family, and with the family you’ve built here, but it’s not the same, is it? I want a family and a home of my own, and you want one, too.�� She tightened her arms, hugged him. “All you have to do is say yes.��

For a moment he stood within her hold, one hand rising to rest over hers, then he sighed and let his head fall forward. After a moment, he gently pried her hands loose and, holding one, turned to face her. He met her eyes. “I can’t stop being Hero.��

“Yes, I know, and I’m not asking you to.�� Moving closer, she raised her free hand and laid it on his chest, held his gaze. “I love you as you are, for who you are, not for who you were, or who you might be.��

He stilled. His eyes almost desperately searched hers. A heartbeat ticked past. “You love me?��

She fought to keep her smile from wavering, fought back the tears that leapt to her eyes at the utter vulnerability that rang in those simple words. She managed a decisive, almost belligerent nod. “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m here—I love you, and I know nothing in heaven or earth is strong enough to change that.�� She looked into his eyes, felt more confident than she’d expected as she continued, “And I know you love me, that you return my sentiment on all levels, to every degree. You tried to let me go, to set me at a distance, and you couldn’t do it. Powerful as you are, disciplined as you are, still you couldn’t do it. This afternoon you put yourself between a pistol and me, which, as dramatic demonstrations go, was rather emphatic, not only in terms of your feelings but also in terms of clarifying mine. After today, being apart is never going to work, is never going to satisfy either of us, so I’m here to find a way for us to be together—a way for me to be your lover, your helpmate, for as long as our love lasts, which in my estimation will be forever.��

His expression was a medley of emotions—disbelief, confusion, stunned shock, and rising hope. “But what about respectability? If you live with me, you’ll have none.��

Her eyes on his, she paused, then said, “I could simply say that I don’t care about respectability anymore, and that would be the truth, but I suspect you won’t readily accept that, so I’ll explain. All my life I was taught that respectability was the ultimate virtue, to be courted and worshipped above all else. I’m not sure that I ever truly, in my heart, believed that, but I did, indeed, hold rigidly to that code, yet it never brought me happiness. Then through our adventures of recent weeks, I saw and learned, and had demonstrated unequivocally that social respectability is at best a minor virtue. It doesn’t hold a candle to the greater virtues, like love, and honor, and devotion. Like loyalty and integrity, and the respect gained through one’s actions. Like truly caring about others, and actively protecting those weaker than oneself. Against those virtues, respectability is insubstantial, an ephemeral construct held to by those lacking greater strength.

“So no—I no longer value respectability as I once did. To me, now, it’s largely immaterial. What matters to me—what now anchors my world—is love. And you. Because it’s you I love.��

She’d come there prepared and determined to risk all; that was one thing Wraxby had taught her. Wraxby, and Lucasta. If she wanted to claim love, she couldn’t hold back and wait for it to be offered. She had to be willing to risk all to gain it—to risk her heart, to offer her heart to him if she wanted his in return.

He drew in a breath, and it shook. “I . . . don’t know what to say—you’ve blindsided me.��

“I would apologize, only once I saw clearly what I wanted, I knew it would be pointless to wait for you to make an offer. Indeed, to wait for you to even come knocking at my door.�� She arched a brow. “You wouldn’t have, would you?��

He held her gaze, eventually said, “I was determined not to.��

Her lips curved at the unvoiced admission that he might not have been able to hold to his so-determined line. “On the one hand I would have liked to have seen you falter, but . . .��

She drew in a breath and bluntly stated, “I understand that you feel prohibited from offering for my hand, but—”He laid a finger across her lips and silenced her. He held her gaze for two heartbeats, then lowered his head and leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t.�� His voice was anguished and low, then it strengthened, “I won’t. It would be asking you to make too much of a sacrifice, and that’s something I cannot, will not, do.�� Raising his head, he looked into her eyes, his expression starkly bleak. “I can’t ask you to set aside the life of a lady and accept what I can offer you.��

She let her lips curve again, raised a hand to frame his cheek. “No, I know. I know you can’t ask me. Won’t ask me. Which is why I’m here, to ask you.��

It took me a few minutes to recognise this one.....I enjoyed it

I so enjoy reading these excerpts ! Unfortunately, I didn't read this book !

I know I haven't read this. I'm really curious what it is.

Looks familiar, but I've been wrong before...

Haven't read this. The heroine seems really modern, but the conversation definitely places it as a historical.... So confused.

I have no clue. I don't think I've read this one.

The book was The Lady Risks All by Stephanie Laurens. I know it got some mixed reviews, but I really enjoyed the story and both main characters.

Ah, Laurens. I haven't read this one.

Sounds great!