“But you—”
“No. You will marry me. That is final.”
Tears blurred her vision. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! She was actually to marry Stratford? As much as her heart yearned for nothing else, she wouldn’t subject him to a marriage to someone he didn’t love. Even if it was her. She looked away. “I can’t do that to you.”
He placed his finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I’m not giving you a choice.”
“I won’t hold you to it. There’s no child, so there is no need.” She’d figure out some other way to stay out of Miss Queensbury’s clutches and Bedlam. She had to.
“You’re not holding me to anything. The time we spent together in your cell…” That time it was he who glanced away, a sad expression on his face.
Was he only trying to save her out of pity? To marry her and supply her with a stable, protected life? No other man would want her after she’d been deemed an undesirable Bedlamite. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. All you gave me. I… I’m not sure I would have survived without your caring and… friendship.”
“I have no desire to be your friend, Lydia.”
She frowned. So he was willing to marry her but wanted nothing more to do with her? A loveless marriage to the man she loved would break her heart. No. She couldn’t do it. It would be a daily reminder of what she longed for and could never have.
Stratford reached up and brushed a few strands of hair away from her cheek. “My darling, the moments we spent together were precious to me. Not the part about seeing you in such a terrible place. No never. That caused my soul to ache. But you gave me gifts, as well. And I don’t mean simply helping me to read. You gave me the gift of your whole heart.”
“But… you still don’t have to marry me just for that. I… Did you actually fear me to be mad? Because I’m not, I—”
He pulled her close to his chest. She was afraid to take a breath, afraid she was dreaming. “I don’t think you’re mad. I never did. And that’s not why I want to marry you. It also isn’t because I think I owe you a debt, although I most certainly do.” He smiled. “I wish to marry you… no, I am going to marry you. Because while we were together at Bedlam. I fell in love with you.”
She gasped.
“There may be a sort of madness but it’s not with you. It’s me. I’m mad for you, Lydia. Marry me.”
“Truly? You really… love me?”
“With all my heart. Please be my wife.”
“I’d be mad not to.”
As his lips, warm and tender, pressed against hers, she knew that yes, she was sane. She was safe. But most importantly, she was loved.
The End.
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When artist Kitty Sullyard draws a strange symbol in her toy panorama, she doesn’t expect it to be life threatening. Tossed into a situation she never asked for, she learns the hard way who not to trust.
After Kitty mysteriously disappears, Nathaniel Bexley has only a single clue with which to find her. It’s something only he would know. Will he be able to decipher the secret message she’s hidden in a drawing, or will Kitty be doomed to the hands of her kidnappers?
When Patience Sullyard finds a mysterious note tied to a pigeon’s leg, her commissioned panorama at a falconry flies the coop. Instead of painting in hues of brown and beige, her focus shifts to saving a troubled stranger. Walter Bexley craves adventure from his boring life. Insinuating himself into Patience’s problem by accompanying her to the falconry might be just the answer. Will the risk they take be worth the exhilaration, or will Patience and Walter discover the threat is too dangerous?
About the Author
Bestselling author Ruth J. Hartman spends her days herding cats and her nights spinning sweet romantic tales that make you smile, giggle, or laugh out loud. She, her husband, and their three cats love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats, Maxwell, Roxy, and Remmie, sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's. You know how selfish those little furry creatures can be.
Ruth, a left-handed, cat-herding, Jeep driving, farmhouse-dwelling romance writer uses her goofy sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women and the men who adore them. Ruth's husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her in spite of her penchant for insisting all of her books have at least one cat in them. Or twelve. But hey, who's counting?
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Color of Danger (The Sullyard Sisters Book 2) Page 16