"This is terrible," she said. “How will we get back to Harrowden tonight?”

"Do not fear," Lucius said. "I have a plan." He signaled for the lad to bring over one of the saddled horses, and he held it by the bridle. "We are going to ride. I will climb up, and I will pull you in front of me."

He called out to the coachman. “Worley, how far is the nearest town from here?"

The coachman looked up from examining the wheel. “I would say about two miles more, sir."

Lucius swung up into the saddle and leaned down and reached out his hands to Selena. “Face out, and I will pull you up."

Selena did so and felt his hands on her waist from behind. Then, before she knew it, she was sitting snug against Lucius’s chest with her legs on one side and cradled in his arms.

The undergroom was now checking the fetlocks of one of the other horses, and Lucius called out to the coachman again, “I want you and Jim to stable the other horses in the next village. Send someone to come and fix the carriage, and have everything ready for us to go back in two days’ time. This should be enough for your needs.” He tossed a small sack of coins to his coachman.

"Yes, sir," Worley said.

Selena felt apprehension creep up her spine as they began riding forward. She was so close to Lucius—more than she'd ever been to any other man. “Two days?” she said in a small voice.

He bent down to look at her. "Don't be afraid, Selena. I will not let any harm come to you."

Her eyes fixated on the hint of stubble on his chin. "How can that be, when we will not return to Harrowden for two days? Even if you do not take advantage of my situation, my reputation will not recover. Not only will I be shunned everywhere—even worse than I already am—but…” She tugged on his lapel. “Lucius—I will not get another position anywhere. I will be destitute. I do not think you have thought through the implications for my situation.”

"Your situation has long chafed me,” Lucius said, tightening his hold around her. “I cannot bear to see you treated with disdain by the likes of men like Downing or to be under the insolent gaze of Lord Harrowden—or even to be ordered about by Lady Harrowden and silly chits like Miss Woodsley. As I have already told you, I will not rest until you are my wife, and you will learn that I am not a man to give up easily.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Do not waver back and forth any longer. Selena. Say you will be my wife—and not because you must in order to save your reputation—but because you wish it."

Her defenses were worn down, and Selena sighed loudly. “I will be your wife, then”—adding in a voice that was more timid— “and because I wish it.” She darted a panicked glance at his face before dropping her gaze. She had worn her heart on her sleeve.