He didn’t smile. “This is different. The constables have orders not to release you. And Delacey has plans for what will happen afterward.”
She shrugged. “My brother will raise the biggest… Ah. Well. I suppose he won’t.” He couldn’t, at least not immediately. He was out of the country with his family. “My father?”
“A fine pugilist, but he hasn’t the political clout necessary to effect your release. Free, I don’t think you’re taking this seriously. You don’t know what Delacey will do to you, and—”
She couldn’t think about that, not without a shiver of fear. Free shook her head. “What about the Duke of Clermont? He’s in town. He’s my brother’s brother. It’s complicated, and I’d hate to lean on him, but in a pinch, he’d do.”
He looked faintly annoyed. “I wasn’t thinking of Clermont,” he grumbled. “You’re making this difficult. You see, I had rather hoped that you might ask your husband to release you.”
Free’s mouth went dry. Her mind ceased to function.
“I haven’t got a husband.” But she could not look away from him, from his dark eyes resting on her. His hands still held hers. “And even if I did, he hasn’t any political clout.”
“Ah, but here’s the thing,” he said. “If you did have a husband, he might come up with any sort of political clout he wished. A signed, sworn statement of release from dead Prince Albert, if that would do the trick.”
Free choked. “Please don’t do that.”
“Of all the things that James might threaten, holding you in custody and doing you harm… I can’t bear thinking of the harm he might do.” His voice was low. “I’d learn necromancy and raise the dead myself, just to get you out.”
He was driving all possibility of thought from her. All thoughts of permits and arrest had been driven from her mind. She swallowed and looked up into his eyes. “Luckily, you don’t need to learn necromancy.”
“Luckily,” he agreed, “I don’t.”
“Even more luckily,” she heard herself say, “I don’t need a husband for that. I have you, and you could forge me false release papers without marrying me. Even if that were our only prospect. Which it isn’t.”
“Unluckily,” he said, without breaking into a smile, “you are right. There are several sad, gaping holes in my logic. I don’t suppose you’re interested in marrying a failed logician with necromantic tendencies, by any chance?”
Free took a deep breath. It didn’t seem to calm the whirl of her head. “That’s…a proposal of marriage? I just want to clarify matters. You see, it could also be a madman’s babble, and I want to be certain.”
“It’s a proposal.” His hands squeezed hers. “Of marriage. And this”—he reached into his pocket—“is a special license. Did you know the vicar will be around today until six?”
“Oh my God.” She dropped his hands. “Are you asking me to marry you today? Before you’ve had a chance to meet my parents? With nobody around to witness but Amanda and Alice?”
“I’m asking you to marry me within the next hour.” He simply looked at her. “I can’t think of a reason why you should. I have no moral sense to speak of. I lie, I cheat, I steal, and I’ll probably drive you away screaming within the week. But if you marry me, I’ll only do those things on your behalf.”
She shook her head reprovingly. “Edward.”
“Was that not any better as proposals go?”
“No. Not particularly. I can’t even tell if you mean it seriously.”
“Then try this one. I’ve spent all the last years of my life wandering around thinking, ‘This world is a terrible place; how can I take advantage of it?’ And then I met you.” He fell silent, but his eyes met hers.
Dark, deep pools. She’d only dreamed of him looking like that, looking at her as if she were everything to him. She felt her toes curl.
“I met you,” he continued, “and you said, ‘This world is a terrible place; how can I make it better?’ You kicked the foundation out from under me. You changed everything. You made me think that there might be more to my life than unending betrayal. So yes, Free. I want you. I want you to sit with me at breakfast and make me smile. I want you to lie with me at night and kiss me. I want you underneath me. I want everything about you.”
“Better.” Free squeezed his hands. “Keep going. I think that you can reduce me to a little puddle in another two minutes, if you keep at it. I’m halfway to liquid as it is.”
“Ah,” he said, leaning down to her. “Then I’d better stop. I love you with steel in your spine.”
She could not bring herself to let go of him. He was right. There were a thousand reasons she shouldn’t marry him. She didn’t even know the name he’d been born with. That hardly mattered; the family that had rejected him was nothing to her. Still…
“I have a handful of questions.”