“Would you like to sit down?"

"I would like to marry you,” he said.

A flush sprang to Selena’s cheeks. "What? Why? Surely…”

Lucius closed the remaining distance with one short stride. He inclined his head, a smile hovering on his lips. “You must have known what I was hinting at when I asked you to stay."

Selena shook her head mutely. “I didn’t know why you asked me to stay. I didn’t expect that.”

He took her hands in his and held them to his lips. "But you are not opposed to the idea?" he asked.

For the first time in their acquaintance, Lucius looked nervous. Selena’s gaze dropped to the folds of his cravat, and he brought their clasped hands to his chest, waiting. Her heart was too full to speak. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted now to say yes, but the thought of what it would mean—the thought of facing Society with its mockery and derision—made acceptance impossible.

“Selena, ever since you walked through my door, I have been undergoing…changes.” Lucius took a deep breath and spoke quickly, as if trying to get all his words out. “I think of you constantly. I think of your life here at Harrowden and am unsettled because you are not spending it with me. It’s the first time I’ve ever wished for such a thing. Apart from the family obligations I deem my duty to fulfill, I’ve never considered another person’s comfort above my own. That is…” Lucius paused. “That is until the night of the ball when I refused to speak out in your defense. I hadn't known my own mind then, and I did not dare make any kind of public declaration—not when I hadn't made a private one in my own heart."

He reached up and traced his finger along the line of her jaw, tilting her face up to catch her gaze. Selena shivered under his touch, still mute with the wave of long-suppressed feelings that surged up.

"But I have heartily regretted that foolish decision at the ball. It brought my selfishness to light and made me hate the man I'd become. It made me long to be someone new. So I’m asking you—will you have me?"

Selena glanced at the door, fearful that someone would walk in at that moment, and at the same time, hoping for it. She was not prepared to give an answer. What had brought about this change of heart? How could she be sure it was long-lasting? If Lucius could turn away from her in front of everyone at the ball, what's to say it wouldn't happen again—or worse! That he would regret having married her?

Every journey to London would entail a risk, as she would surely be met with censure and scorn. He would be reminded of her low position at every turn, causing him to doubt—then regret. He would finish by relegating her to some country estate while he went to London to meet his mistress. Had he not treated her with scorn at their first meeting? And everyone spoke of his reputation. A man did not come by such a thing innocently.