“Very true, we cannot do that. But we can make certain it never happens again.”

“That is neither here nor there. Whether it happens again or not, the damage has been done.”

Damage? She flinched. So what happened between them was damage?

She may have decided they would not repeat tonight and she would remove herself from here, but she had not thought of it in those harsh terms.

Her gaze slid toward the door, strategizing how she might get him to leave without just telling him to leave.

She faced him again. He looked at her expectantly, arching one eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Need I be the one to say it?”

Her chin lifted. “I think you’re going to have to.”

“You are irreparably compromised.”

She blinked. At least he had not said ruined again. She might have slapped him if he had.

He held up both hands and pumped them in the air as though encouraging her to say something, to reach what clearly, to him, seemed an obvious conclusion.

“I’ll speak to the duke tomorrow and then we can travel to Brambledon to—”

“Wait. What? Why would you want to travel to Brambledon with me?”

“To inform your family that we must marry. Of course.”

Of course.

Must marry . . .

The word must made her feel faintly sick. She pressed a hand to her suddenly roiling stomach, wishing she could scrub the sound of it from her ears.

She laughed mirthlessly. “You really know how to charm a lady.” She held up two fingers. “I’ve been insulted with two thoughtless proposals from you now. Two.” She angled her head. “But can we even call these proposals since you have proposed nothing? You simply told me what we’re going to do as though you hold authority over me.”

“Nora,” he began.

“I took you into my body. I did not give you leave to take over my life.”

He flinched and it was most satisfying. Wrong or right, it felt good to see him affected . . . maybe even hurt.

Because she was hurting. She was hurting so deeply.

“I’m sorry. I did not realize there was any other conclusion to be drawn after—”

“Get out,” she demanded, looking away from him, unable to look at his face, wondering at the pain sweeping through her.

She should not feel like this. Not at all.

“Nora, we have to talk about this and do the correct thing here. The responsible thing.”

There had been nothing correct or responsible about what just occurred in this bed. It had been desire. Lust. How could he not see that?

It had been emotion.

Rare emotion from him . . . and even from her.

It had been love. Apparently he did not realize that or feel the same way.

She loved him. Foolishly, she had fallen. Just as her sisters had. She was not immune, after all.