Robert squeezed her hands again. He admitted, “Even with the three of you to show me that all women are not lying, cheating adulteresses, I may still have been as paranoid and hateful to a wife—to you,” he added solemnly, “as my father was to my mother . . . and I would have carried on this mythical Langley-men curse. But I was most fortunate,” he said with a small smile. “I had you and Suzette and Christiana in my life. The three of you are the cream of the crop when it comes to women, Lisa, and you are the best of the bunch in my eyes.”

“I am?” she asked with wonder.

Robert nodded firmly, and then pointed out, “We enjoy each other’s company, like reading together, have lively grand debates, prefer the same foods, love to dance, share the same values. And no other woman in my life has ever stirred the passion in me that you do.

“I do love you, Lisa Madison. I love your dreamy-eyed romanticism, your undaunted loyalty, your quirky sense of humor, your courage, your passion, your intelligence, and even your occasional naivety. I trust you with my heart, my name, and my very life. And while I can’t promise that I will never have a single doubt, or that my father’s ravings might not someday rise up to instill worry and fear in me, I can promise I shall try to nip it in the bud if and when that does happen, and that I definitely will not take it out on you.”

“Oh,” Lisa breathed.

Robert turned her hands over in his, contemplating them briefly and then met her gaze and added, “I hope that that promise is enough to encourage you to be my wife, Lisa. Because I do not think I could bear—no,” he corrected himself grimly, “I know I could not bear a life without you in it as my friend, lover, wife and partner.”

“Oh,” Lisa repeated shakily and then suddenly snatched her hands away, leapt up and rushed from the room.

Robert stared after her nonplussed. He waited for a moment, and waited, his shock turning to confusion and then despair and finally anger. He had just poured his heart out to the woman and what had she done? Run off. What the hell?

Standing angrily, he hurried across the room and out into the hall. He’d expected to find her door closed and locked or something, but it was wide open. He suspected that meant she’d run downstairs, but glanced into the room anyway, just in case. He relaxed a bit when he spotted her seated at the small table in her room, writing quickly in a notebook, but not fully.

“Lisa,” he began irritably.

“One moment, Robert. I am almost done,” she murmured, continuing her writing.

Robert frowned and shifted his feet. He then asked impatiently, “Done what?”