Page 155 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

“I do not love another man,” she said.

Was that relief on his face?

“Then I reiterate—is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

She tried to force out the word no, but it wouldn’t come. It was too final—too painful—no matter how badly she needed to say it.

Coward that she was, she said, “Come find me in a year. If you still feel the same way, I will say yes.”

“A year,” he repeated.

She nodded.

“Are you saying that because you think I won’t remember who you are in a year?”

Something about his glittering gaze was dangerous.

“No. I believe you will remember me this time.” And she meant it. “I am saying you will feel differently once you have had time to consider the foolishness of your offer.” And she meant that, too.

His jaw flexed, but he nodded, soundlessly set down his own cup and saucer, and stood. “We should not keep the duke and duchess waiting any longer.”