She sensed his presence before he spoke her name.
“Vanessa…” The low murmur made her heart leap.
She turned around slowly, scarcely daring to breathe. Damien stood just inside the room, watching her, completely still, as if he, too, feared risking a breath.
Her heart jolting in her chest, she drank in the sight of his beautiful face. It was their first meeting since the duel, and although she searched, she could see little outward indication of his injury-except that he looked thinner and a shade paler, and perhaps he held his left arm a bit stiffly. His eyes, however, were wary, intense.
“Why?” she said simply.
He gave a shrug of his elegant shoulders. “I wanted to give you the choices you said you never had.”
A frown darkened her brow. “The freedom to wed anyone I choose, your solicitor said. You realize I could choose someone other than yourself? You are willing for me to wed elsewhere?”
“Yes.” His voice was the husk of a whisper. “If that is what you truly want.” His mouth twisted in a joyless smile. “Of course, I would far rather it be me.”
“And in return for your generosity… what do you want from me, Damien?”
His troubled gaze was as gray as an ocean and just as fathomless. “Salvation. Merely that.” Again that painful, fleeting smile. “I know it is a great deal to ask.”
He moved farther into the room, halting a few steps from her. “I have countless regrets about my life, Vanessa, and the greatest by far is my treatment of you. But I profoundly believe I’ve learned from my mistakes. A man can reform, given sufficient reason. Your brother taught me that. I’ve never before had a reason to change, until you.”
Vanessa felt her throat constrict. “Aubrey said much the same thing about Olivia.”
“He and I have more in common than I like to admit.”
A long tormenting moment of irresolution passed.
“I’ve vowed to try, Vanessa. You couldn’t love the man I was, so I intend to become a different man, someone worthy of you.”
“You have always been worthy, Damien.”
His shadowed gaze was skeptical. “No. The things I’ve done, the empty life I’ve led… I’m determined to change all that.”
“But why, Damien?” she whispered.
“Because I love you.”
When she stood transfixed, Damien took a step closer, gazing down at her. Vanessa didn’t pull away.
With a jagged breath, he drew her into his embrace. He winced at the strain on his healing wound, but ignored the pain and her resultant murmur of dismay and wrapped his arms about her. He wanted to hold her, simply hold her, until the emptiness waned.
He felt the faint tremors of her body as she pressed against him. “Do you know that I dream of you at night?”
“That doesn’t mean,” her reply came muffled against his good shoulder, “that you love me. How can you be certain it is truly love?”
“I feel joy just being with you. I feel pleasure at the sound of your voice. Even the smallest moments have meaning when you’re there to share them with me. Is that not love?” When she remained silent, he went on in a hushed voice. “I never knew joy until you, Vanessa. I never knew what true pleasure was.” He could feel the trembling doubt and hope pulse through her body. “I do love you… so much I hurt.”
Vanessa stood mutely in his embrace. She wanted to believe him so badly that the depth of her longing terrified her. She heard Damien’s voice against her ear, low and pleading.
“I spent far too long trying to escape the truth. I tried desperately to deny what I felt for you. You frightened me. I feared I would lose my soul to an obsession. I did lose it, but I found something far more precious…”
He drew back, tilting her face up to his. She was crying, he realized. His heart wrenching, he reached up to rest his hand against her tearstained cheek, gazing into her eyes, her beautiful, soft, doe eyes.
“I do love you,” Damien whispered. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”
She caught her breath, pinned by the raw emotion in his eyes. Her heart aching, she touched her fingertips to his lips. “Damien, you don’t have to offer marriage. I will continue to be your mistress if you wish.”
“No, sweeting, that wouldn’t be enough. If you come to me, it will be as my wife. I want to marry you, Vanessa. I want to spend the rest of my life proving my love for you. Will you give me that chance?”
She searched the lean, high-cheekboned beauty of his features. The naked vulnerability she saw there struck her like a physical blow. “Damien…”
When she hesitated, wanting to ease his hurt, he shut his eyes in desperation. “Vanessa, don’t torment me. If you don’t want me… if you can’t bring yourself to love me, then tell me so.”
“I do want you,” she whispered. “I love you, Damien. I love the man you are. I always will.”
Focusing on her, he stared into her eyes as if in a mirror, seeing reflected there all his own turbulent emotions… wonder, fear, love. His heart seemed to stop beating.
“Then… if I renewed my declarations, could I dare hope for a different answer?”
She smiled at him, her eyes misty. “Yes.”
That lovely smile trapped his breath in his chest. Hope flaring inside him, Damien swallowed thickly. “I discovered a proposal in a volume of Olivia’s poetry, which I memorized in the event I ever had the incredible fortune to ask you again.” He kept his gaze riveted on her face, his voice low. “Will you have me, though I come to you corrupt? My armor tarnished with sin and decadence?”
Vanessa couldn’t contain another trembling smile. She had no choice but to have Damien. He owned her heart.
She was his, body and soul.
“Yes, I will have you,” she said softly. “Gladly.”
He framed her face with infinite gentleness, dazed with love and desire. “And you will marry me and be my love?”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa…” He said the word as a husky breath as he bent down to her.
His mouth claiming hers, he kissed her with all the new, brilliant tenderness in his soul. His hands moved blindly in her hair as desire spilled through him.
He didn’t deserve her, a woman so rare as this. She had become his heartbeat, his breath.
And he would spend the rest of his life proving it to her.
Epilogue
Rosewood, November 1810
Damien paused at the door to his bedchamber and gazed down at his bride of eleven hours.
“At last,” he murmured huskily, raising her hand and pressing his lips into her palm. “I thought we would never be alone.”
Vanessa gave him a dreamy smile. “You were the one who insisted on a large wedding.”
“I wanted the world to know of my good fortune.”
He had procured a special license to marry without the banns so they could hold a double wedding with his sister and her brother. The church was filled to overflowing, since half the peerage of England had turned out to watch the notorious Lord Sin meet his fate.
After a sumptuous feast at Rosewood, Olivia and Aubrey had departed for Kent, along with Vanessa’s mother and sisters. The last of the guests had finally driven away moments ago, leaving the baron and new baroness alone on their wedding night.
“Wasn’t it wonderful that Olivia could stand upright for the ceremony?” Vanessa remarked as Damien opened the door for her. “She made a beautiful bride, don’t you think?”
He gave her a smile so brilliant it shamed the sun. “I scarcely noticed. I had eyes only for my own bride.”
Her heart too full of joy, Vanessa entered the bedchamber, which had been prepared for the night. Several lamps burned welcomingly, while a fire blazed in the grate to ward off the autumn chill. The huge vase of crimson roses that graced a side table scented the air, and the bedcovers on the four-poster bed were turned down invitingly.