The coach began to move, and she turned to him, her expression somehow different than he’d ever seen before.

“What is it?” he asked.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I want to tell you about—about my life before.”

“Before what?” he replied quickly, then realizing that that was a ludicrous question.

Her expression revealed she thought the same thing. They had that in common.

“When I left London. And how I left London. Before,” she said again, and he could tell she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes at him.

Perhaps she did care for him after all.

He slid his arm along the back of the carriage seat, draping his hand on her shoulder. Resisting the urge to curl her up into his arms and dip his fingers into the front of her gown.

“Tell me. I’m listening.”

He felt her take a deep breath as the carriage continued to rumble over the cobblestones, the movement sliding their bodies together. Her hip was warm against his side.

“I am the second oldest of us. There are five of us, and all of us are”—and here she paused as though searching for the word—“distinctive. I always thought it was my role in the family to follow Eleanor’s lead, and support my younger sisters. I behaved properly, I did what I was supposed to, and then when it was time for my debut, I expected I would receive my reward for proper behavior.” Another pause. “I entered Society with so much naivete. I thought that I would burst onto the scene, that some handsome young gentleman would love me, and that I would end up happily married and taken care of for the rest of my life.”

That might still happen, he wanted to say. But he also wanted to let her tell her story, not interrupt with how he could solve everything.

She made a derisive noise. “That did not happen. I entered Society, and was immediately besieged by gentlemen who wanted to marry the Duke of Marymount’s daughter. They didn’t want to know me, Della. They wanted the prestige of my father’s reputation, not to mention my dowry. I tried to find someone—anyone—who would listen to me and want to hear my opinion on anything, even something so minor as whether I preferred champagne to white wine, but there wasn’t anybody.”

He wanted to punch someone at hearing how forlorn she sounded. Although to be fair, he usually wanted to punch someone when it came to wrongs committed against her.

This was true love, wasn’t it?

Lord Stanbury, how did you realize you were madly in love with Lady Della?

Well, I wanted to use my fists against anyone who hurt her. I wanted to let her speak her mind. I delayed doing what I wanted to do because I thought it would be best for her if I did so.