When he came an hour later, Selena was standing in the entrance, dressed in her warmest clothing, Miss Woodsley’s maid at her side. Lucius, however, had no intention of allowing the awkward presence of a maid to interfere with his suit. He was determined to win Selena’s hand, and this would have to be done without the encumbrance.

He addressed both ladies. “I am sorry to say we have no room for the maid. We will bring Miss Woodsley back in our carriage once we catch up to them, but it will be a tight fit with her luggage as well. Miss Lockhart, I assure you, your reputation will be perfectly safe, as I have my coachman and undergroom.”

Selena’s lips settled in a prim line that spoke volumes. He knew she didn't like being manipulated, but he was going to win this round, especially if it meant fighting to convince her that she would be happier married to him than in a life of service.

She turned to Miss Woodsley’s maid. “Tell Lady Harrowden we have left. I will do my best to bring Miss Woodsley home to you."

Lucius helped her into the carriage, then climbed in after her before closing the door behind them and rapping on the roof. The horses surged forward.

He leaned against the corner of the seat and, with a look of mild amusement, said, “I did not expect assistance from such quarters as Lady Harrowden. But she has practically handed you over to me."

Selena drew back with a raised eyebrow. She looked wary but unafraid as she rubbed one gloved hand over the other. "I hope you have not invented some nefarious purpose in my being alone with you, Lucius. I had thought I might trust you."

"You know very well you may trust me, my dear,” Lucius said. “I have honorable intentions. But here I may convince you to become my wife, without fear of interruption.”

"You may talk," she said, facing forward, and he thought he saw a dimple appear on her cheek. "But I still own my own mind."

"Yes, but yours appears to be deranged in some way, for you seem to think that because of something your father did years ago, you must resign yourself to a life of spinsterhood. And here you have received a perfectly respectable offer of marriage and have so far turned it down. You cannot convince me that this speaks to your sanity."

"If you are so concerned for my sanity," she countered, her lips now trembling toward a smile, "I wonder that you should wish to marry me at all."

Lucius folded his arms, his own lips quirking upward. “I have no doubt in my mind that your sanity will fully be restored. Once you have agreed to become my wife."

"My," she exclaimed. “Once you are fixated on a subject, you do not leave it alone easily enough."

"No," he said. "But since I have promised to protect your reputation and cannot, in good conscience, kiss you—which experience tells me does the best job of convincing you—I must use my words alone."