Except they wouldn’t.
“Little do you know. He doesn’t even like me.”
“Get out of the coach, Sophie.”
“Go on, Sophie, we’ve all places to be,” said another passenger.
“As do I!” she insisted.
King raised a brow. “Oh? Where are you headed?”
She didn’t know that bit. Not yet. Still, she wasn’t about to say as much to him. “Sprotbrough. Perhaps you remember it. Handsome doctor?”
“I remember it, love. Every minute of it.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? I love you.”
She caught her breath at the words. He was a beast. “Get out,” she said softly, hating him for saying them. For making her wish they were true.
“In or out, my lord,” the coachman said from King’s shoulder. “I’ve a schedule to meet.”
He didn’t look away from her when he said, softly, “Shall I get in? Or will you come out?”
“I’ll go if she won’t,” said another woman in the carriage.
“Go, girlie,” said the man at the window.
She ignored him. “You sent me away.”
“I was an ass.”
“You were, rather.”
“That’s it, lass,” her neighbor said. “You stand for yourself.”
King reached in, one strong hand extended to her. “Please, Sophie. I’ve so much to say. Come out and hear me?”
To the immense gratitude of the driver, the mixed feelings of the passengers, and her own significant doubt, Sophie exited the coach. The coach was in motion in seconds, leaving her and King alone on the Great North Road, with none but his mount as witness.
She turned to him as the sound of the mail faded into the distance. “What—”
He stopped the question with a kiss, deep and long and with an urgency that unsettled even as it tempted, his hands cupping her face. She lost herself in the caress almost instantly, devastated by it, by the fact that she’d never imagined he’d kiss her again.
She shouldn’t let him kiss her.
It wasn’t fair that she so desperately wanted him to kiss her.
As he released her, leaving them both gasping for air, she realized his hands were trembling. She clasped them with her own. “King?”
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered before taking her lips again, equally as urgently.
She pulled away. “What? I wasn’t dead. I was on a mail coach.”
“The carriage crashed.”
Her eyes went wide as she remembered how he so carefully checked the horses’ harnesses whenever he was preparing for a journey—a vestige of the drive with Lorna. “How?”
“The wheel broke,” he said. “I watched it fall.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop it. You could have died.”
She took his hands in hers, holding them tightly, knowing he relived the moment—his worst nightmare. “The coachman?”
“Well. Miraculously well.”
“Thank God.”
“But you could have been killed,” he repeated.
She pressed his hands to her cheeks. “I am quite alive.”
“I nearly lost you,” he said, the words quiet and devastating. “And then, just as I discovered you weren’t in the coach—that you were alive, I lost you again.”
She released him and took a deep breath, stepping away from the words. From their truth. “You sent me away.”
He reached for her. “Sophie—”
She stepped back. “I told you that I loved you, and you sent me away.”
He cursed, running his hands through his hair, “I know. I was wrong. Christ.”
“I didn’t wish to marry you,” she said, hating the sadness in her words. The weakness there. “Not like that.”
“I know,” he said.
“I’m not sure you do,” she said, and she couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. She turned, looking down the road, where the mail coach had disappeared.
She was trapped.
Just as he was.
“I can’t be married to you, King. Not like this. That’s why I left the carriage.” She paused and looked back to him, meeting his beautiful green eyes. She loved him too much to be married to him without trust. Without love. “I told you everything. I bared myself. My love. And it wasn’t enough. You deserve better than to be trapped in a marriage you don’t want.” She shook her head and added, “And I deserve more.”
She turned her back to walk away, not knowing where she was going, but knowing she could not stay with him.
He called after her. “I want it.”
She closed her eyes but did not stop.
“God knows that you do deserve more, but I’m sorry, Sophie, you can’t have it. You’re my wife. And I want you. Every bit of you. I love you. More than you could possibly know. And I was a proper ass. I should have listened to you. I should have believed you.”
She turned back to face him, unable to stop herself. He was coming for her, the words pouring out of him.
“I should have proposed to you last night. Before I made love to you. But like an imbecile, I wanted to propose properly. I was going to take you to the labyrinth, love. With strawberry tarts. Would you have liked that?” He stopped in front of her. “Please, Sophie.”
“I would have liked that,” she said softly.
“I’ll do it,” he vowed. “As soon as we’re home. I’ll take you there. I’ll do it.”
“I don’t need it. We’re already married.”
“I do,” he said. “Christ. I do. Give me your hands.”
She did, marveling as he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. “No. King.”
He kissed her hands, first one, then the other. “We don’t have witnesses, but this will have to do. I love you, Sophie Talbot. I love your beauty and your brilliance and I swear here before you and God and the Great North Road that I wanted to marry you yesterday and I want to marry you today, and I fully intend to want to marry you for all the days for the rest of our lives.”
She stared down at the top of his head, marveling at those beautiful curls, unable to believe that he was here, and that he wanted her.
“You believe me? I did not wish to trap you.”
He stood, pressing his forehead to hers. “I was an ass. I was angry and shocked and I . . .” He paused. “I wanted to trap you, I think. And then, like a fool, I sent you away.” He closed his eyes. “I saw the carriage topple and—” He opened them. “Christ, Sophie. I died in that moment. I don’t know what I would have—”
“I am alive.” She pressed his hand to her breast, where her heart beat strong and true. “King. I am alive.” She smiled. “You seem to have made a career of rescuing me.”
He slid that hand up to her jaw, tilting her face to his, staring deeply into her eyes. “I will always rescue you.” He kissed her again before continuing, “I sent you away because I was terrified of you. Terrified of how you made me feel. Terrified of the life you made me want to live. I sent you away because I was afraid I would never be the kind of man who deserved you.