Emmy could hardly look at him. Just being near him made her chest ache for all that could have been, and yet she found herself nodding in agreement. One last dance.
Instead of leading her onto the crowded dance floor, he pulled her through a doorway and into an unoccupied room whose curtains, walls, and furnishings were covered in dark blue velvet. He closed the door with an audible click.
“Dance with me.”
The music was still faintly audible through the wooden panels. He pulled her close, and her body came alive with his touch. She felt light, almost transparent. As insubstantial as air, except for where he held her. Those points alone felt real, felt solid. They swirled into the familiar steps, and she concentrated on the pearl studs on his waistcoat. God, he danced so beautifully. Her heart felt heavy, almost to bursting. She forced herself to look up at him, then wished she hadn’t, as his intense blue-grey eyes met hers.
The chandelier above them provided excellent illumination. She studied every detail of his face, trying to impress it upon her brain, to forge a memory she could hold in her heart forever.
The silence between them became pronounced. With a deep breath, Emmy decided to broach the subject at the forefront of her mind. “All right, Harland, out with it. The prince said you’d devised a suitable punishment for me. You might as well tell me what it is and put me out of my misery.”
His lips curved up at the corners in that teasing way she knew so well. “I’m not sure he described it as a punishment, per se. I discussed the matter with Conant, and we both agreed the plan held merit.”
She bit her lip and waited for him to continue.
“The charges against you will be dropped—”
She lifted her brows in silent astonishment and waited for the inevitable catch.
“—if you become my wife.”
Emmy almost swallowed her own tongue. For a moment, she couldn’t even begin to make sense of what he’d just said. She simply gaped at him.
“I’ve given Conant my assurances that as my wife, you will refrain from stealing. I have guaranteed your future good behavior. The Nightjar will be put to rest once and for all.”
Emmy blinked. And then her confusion coalesced into disbelief and white-hot fury. Of all the mutton-headed, arrogant— She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This was a punishment. A slow, heartbreaking humiliation. She’d learn the exquisite pain of having his attention for a brief time before he left her for another. Of having him marry her, and then abandon her in the countryside while he returned to his life in London.
It was the perfect revenge. As his legal wife, she would have no recourse to complain against whatever he chose to do with her. He could lock her away in some musty old country estate and be perfectly within his legal rights.
Her heart felt as though it had been shredded. How many times had she dreamed of hearing a proposal from his lips? But never one such as this. He was clearly being coerced into offering for her. How humiliating.
“Isn’t that as much a punishment for you as it is for me?” she choked.
Harland scowled, as if she’d mortally offended him. “I think you know me well enough by now to know that nobody can force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”
She raised her brows. “And if I refuse?”
He snapped his jaw shut, and for a moment she didn’t think he’d answer, but eventually he ground out, “Then you’d still be pardoned.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I would be free?”
“Yes.”
“Safe from prosecution and imprisonment?”
“Yes, provided you never committed another crime.”
“What about my family?”
“They would be safe too.” He lowered his brows into a fearsome scowl.
“In that case, I decline.”
He raked his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “Let me rephrase.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and gave him a look that clearly said: As if anything you could say now would make it better.
He gazed down at her, and she tried to ignore the traitorous quickening of her pulse. Why did he have to smell so good?
“It has occurred to me that I was mistaken in my previous assessment of our relationship. Do you remember when I said I didn’t think we could ever be friends? I’d like to amend that.”
She glared up at him, hating the way her stupid heart still fluttered with a tiny spark of hope. She must be deranged. “You think we could be friends?”
“Why not? We’ve already been lovers. I was hoping we could amalgamate both roles.”
Her heart crashed to the pit of her stomach. Stupid rat of a man! “You want to make me your mistress? No, thank you.”
She turned away, desperate to escape the suffocating misery that had descended on her like a shroud. She was almost at the door, her hand on the knob, when he spoke.
“Leaving me, princess?”
His soft voice stopped her in her tracks. He’d said those words to her in the same resigned, slightly teasing tone four years ago, at Lady Carlton’s masquerade.
When he hadn’t known who she was.
Emmy sucked in a disbelieving breath. He knew! He knew she was the one who’d danced with him and kissed him and left him alone. How? How long had he known? She swung around and was immediately caught in his smoke-grey eyes.
He sent her a crooked smile, cocky and heartbreakingly unsure all at once. “Don’t leave me this time, Emmy. Stay.”
Her throat was hot and tight. The end of her nose began to sting. She pressed herself back against the door. “Why should I stay?”
He took a step toward her, closing the distance. “The Nightjar only ever steals things that have already been stolen, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “Not true. Because you stole my heart, Emmeline Danvers. It’s never belonged to anyone else since that night I danced with you at the Carltons’ masquerade.”
He took another step, and Emmy dragged in another shaky breath.
“And since you can’t give me my heart back, I want yours, in exchange. I promise I’ll guard it as well as I would my own. I will never bruise it or cause it to ache. I will love it forever.” His eyes bored into hers, burning and intense. “Why should you stay? Because if you go, I’ll be miserable for the rest of my life.”
Emmy could barely breathe. She hardly dared believe the sincerity in his expression.
He took a final step, and they were chest to chest. “I don’t know what qualities you think a husband of yours might need,” he said softly. “A knack for scaling tall buildings? The ability to argue convincingly in front of a judge? I’m not sure I have those. I can’t be your partner in crime. But I’d like to be your partner in life, if you’ll have me.”
With a sob, Emmy threw her arms around his waist and dropped her forehead onto his chest. His arms came around her, and she felt him kiss the top of her head and exhale as if in great relief. He spoke into the top of her hair.
“Don’t cry. Just say yes. Say yes because you love me. As much as I love you.”
She lifted her head. Tears pricked her eyes, but she managed a radiant smile. “That was a much better proposal, Harland. And in light of your recent admissions, I’d like to amend my earlier answer. I accept.”
His smile was like a ray of sunshine breaking through a cloud. “Thank God.”
Emmy closed her eyes in blissful surrender as his mouth came crashing down on hers. Joy bloomed within her. She was home.