A Scandalous Publication (28 page)

He bowed his head and said nothing.

She turned slowly away, walking back toward the waiting carriage, aware that the coachman and the porter had witnessed everything.

“Charlotte?”

She hesitated, looking back.

He raised his head then and she saw that the coldness had gone from his eyes. “Oh, Charlotte,” he said softly, “do you really think I find the prospect of being alone any easier or more bearable than you do?”

“I don’t know what to think. You’ve become so distant that I can hardly believe you’re the same man who asked me to marry him.”

“Distance is a cloak I’ve donned, Charlotte, for without it I’m as vulnerable as ever to my love for you.”

She stared at him. The sounds of London faded away and she could only hear the quickening of her heart.

He straightened slowly, his eyes very dark as he looked at her. “I despise myself for every cruel word I’ve said to you, especially as today you’ve shown me that you’ll always be the perfect creature I love and need so much that being apart from you is like being cut in two. Can you ever forgive me for hurting you?”

An unbelievable joy was suddenly spinning wildly through her. “Oh, Max,” she whispered, “I’d forgive you anything if you loved me still.”

“I’ve never stopped loving you.”

She ran to him then and he swept her close, crushing her so tightly to him that she could feel the beats of his heart echoing those of her own. He tilted her lips toward his, kissing her at first softly but then more urgently. She was oblivious to everything but the wild desire and happiness coursing wildly through her veins.

He cupped her face in his hands, caressing her with his thumbs. “If you hadn’t come here today, I’d have lost everything which mattered in my life, and I’d have lost it because of bruised pride. I’ll never be too proud again, my darling, for I’ll never again put our love at risk.” His fingers twined luxuriously in the warm hair at the nape of her neck, and he bent his head to kiss her again.

The tears of happiness were wet on her cheeks as she clung to him, but then she became aware of the astonished stares of the coachman and the porter. She drew back, a little embarrassed. “We’re about to cause another scandal, I think.”

“I don’t care, for it’s a scandal I approve of if my name is linked again with yours.” He smiled at her. “Tell me,” he murmured, “will you be putting pen to paper for this time as well?”

“Never.”

Ignoring the onlookers, he kissed her again, and with such passion that the coachman cleared his throat and shifted his position, and the porter went very pink indeed, finding something of immense diversion to stare at on the roof above them.

Copyright © 1986 by Sandra Heath

Originally published by Signet (ISBN 9780451145185)

Electronically published in 2016 by Belgrave House/Regency

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.