Yet the instant the thought entered her mind, her heart rejected it. No. Albert wasn’t just any man. He was honorable. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted her. And it wasn’t just his body that told her that. It was the look in his eyes.

But that still did not answer why. Why would a decent young man desire a used-up, former whore? ‘Cause he’s lookin’ fer a little tumble, you nodcock. You haven’t wanted a man to touch you fer the past five years. Now you do. Why not give ‘im what he wants? You’ll both get yer itches scratched.

No! She clapped her hands over her ears to drown out the guttural voice from her past. That voice she’d worked so hard, with Meredith’s help, to bury. She wasn’t that woman anymore. She’d made a decent life for herself and for her daughter. And Albert wasn’t the sort of man who’d expect a tumble from her. No, Albert was the sort of man who only would have kissed her if he…

Cared for her. As she cared for him.

Everything inside her stilled. Dear God, was it possible? She hadn’t allowed herself to hope for such a miracle. She squeezed her eyes tight, recalling how unresponsive she’d stood in his arms, and his stricken expression. He would naturally assume her wooden reaction stemmed from being repulsed by him.

She had to know if he cared for her. Had to. Now. If he didn’t, well, she’d take that blow as she’d taken so many others. If he did… She pressed her hands over the spot where her heart beat frantically. Either way, her life was about to change.

Drawing a deep, resolute breath, she walked swiftly from the room and headed toward the stairs. When she reached Albert’s closed bedchamber door, she paused. She heard his distinctive shuffle as he moved about. Summoning all her courage, she knocked.

Nearly a minute passed before he opened the door. Their eyes met, and her insides squeezed at his bleak expression. Stepping across the threshold, she said, “Albert, I…”

Her voice trailed off at the sight of his worn leather portmanteau setting on his neatly made bed. Her gaze panned around the chamber, and her heart sank to her toes. Even in the dim glow of a single candle, she could see that all signs of his personal belongings were gone. His hairbrush. His shaving equipment. Hope’s childish drawings that he’d proudly framed and hung upon his wall as if they’d been painted by Gainsborough himself. His open wardrobe gave testimony to the fact that it was empty.

A deafening silence engulfed them. Charlotte licked her dry lips, and managed to find her voice. “What are you doing?”

A muscle jerked in his cheek. “I’m leaving, Charlotte.”

Three little words. How was it possible for three little words to wreak such havoc? To hurt so badly? “Why?”

Pain flashed in his eyes, then his expression went blank. Shifting his gaze down to the open portmanteau, he said, “I just… need to leave.”

A flicker of hope sparked in her chest at his abject misery. Surely he wouldn’t be so utterly forlorn if he didn’t care deeply? ‘Tis now or never, Charlotte.

Summoning every ounce of bravery she possessed, she asked, “Are you leaving because of me, Albert?”

His head jerked up, and he stared at her through tortured eyes. When he did not reply, she said softly, “Are you leaving because of what just happened between us?”

Color rushed into his face. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I-”

“It’s not an apology I seek, Albert, but an explanation. Why did you kiss me?”

“I lost my head. I don’t know what I was thinkin‘.”

“Were you thinking about me… or was someone else in your mind?”

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

She pressed her hands to her midriff. “Was I the person who inspired that kiss, or was I merely a substitute for another woman?”

A myriad of emotions paraded across his face: confusion, comprehension, then an unmistakable dash of anger. “I’d never use ye in such a way, Charlotte.”

Her knees nearly buckled with relief, and the flame of hope burned brighter. “That kiss-”

“Was a terrible mistake.”

“Why do you say that?”

He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Then a short, humorless sound escaped him. “Yer horrified reaction made it very clear. Not that I blame ye, of course. I had no right to touch you.”

Her heart squeezed. “I wasn’t horrified, Albert. I was surprised. Shocked, actually. I couldn’t imagine why you would kiss me at all, but most especially like that. ”

“Like that? Ye mean like a piteously green lad.” He all but spit out the words.

“No. I mean like a man kisses a woman he cares for deeply. A woman he… loves.”

Albert prayed for the floor to split open and swallow him. Never, in his entire life, had he been more mortified. Bloody hell, with his clumsy kiss, he’d given away the show.

“Is that how you kissed me, Albert?”

His shoulders slumped at her soft-spoken question. He wanted to deny it, to spare himself from being the further object of her pity, but how could he hope to convincingly lie about something so obvious? Besides, he wouldn’t have to see her pity for long. He’d be gone from here within a matter of hours. “Yes, Charlotte, that is how I kissed you.”

“Because you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He jerked his head in a nod. “Yes. Tonight my feelin’s… they got the better of me. And since I can’t promise that they never would again, I have to leave here. For both our sakes.”

“Oh… my. Albert, that kiss was the most wondrous I’ve ever received. I didn’t even know a kiss could be wondrous until tonight.”

Confusion filled him. “Wondrous? Are ye sayin‘ you liked it?”

“Yes, Albert, that is what I’m saying. But you so surprised me, I did not have the presence of mind to react as I should have. I wouldn’t be so surprised if you were to try it again… now.”

He could only stare, certain he’d misheard her. “Are ye sayin‘ you want me to kiss you?”

“More than anything.”

She couldn’t have struck him more dumb with a brick to his head. Half of him wanted to simply grab her and take advantage of this obvious leave-taking of her wits, but the other half demanded caution. And the assurance that his hearing had not suddenly become afflicted.

“Why would ye want me to kiss you?” he asked carefully, studying her, terrified by the seed of hope struggling to bloom in his heart.

Her eyes filled with such unmistakable tenderness, his breath cut off. “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he’d lost his mind. Daft, that’s what he was. Hearing things. Bedlam was the next stop for him.

Clearly he must have looked as dazed as he felt, because her eyes filled with concern. “Albert, did you hear me?”

“I’m not certain. Doesn’t seem possible that I heard what I think I heard. Could ye… say it again?”

A smile trembled on her lips. Then she cleared her throat and said in a slow, distinct, and quite loud voice, “I want you to kiss me because I love you.”

Sweet God, he hadn’t lost his mind! Reaching out, he framed her face between his unsteady hands. She stepped closer to him and lifted her face, sliding her arms around his waist.

“Charlotte…” He brushed his mouth softly across hers, almost afraid to touch her, fearful that he’d suddenly awake and discover this was nothing but a dream, a figment of his imagination. But there was nothing imaginary about the way her lips parted beneath his, or the feel of her arms tightening around him.

Forcing himself to end their kiss before the increasingly urgent demands of his body overrode his judgment, he lifted his head. And looked at the most incredible, beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Charlotte. In his arms. Her lips moist and reddened-from his kiss. Her skin flushed with arousal-from his touch. Her eyes filled with tenderness and love-for him.

He blinked twice, still certain that she would disappear, but she remained in his embrace. God knows he didn’t want to say or do anything to disrupt this magical moment, but he had to ask. “Are ye certain, Charlotte? Certain ye want to take on a man like me?” He looked pointedly down at his leg, then raised his gaze to hers. “I’m damaged goods.”

“So am I. I can’t change my past, Albert.”

“Any more than I can change mine.” He touched her soft cheek, marveling that he could do so. “I’m only interested in yer present and yer future.”

“I’m five years older than you.”

“I don’t care.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I can’t believe ye’re right here, that I’m touchin‘ you, that you love me. But by God, I’m not goin’ to let this slip away. Charlotte, will you marry me?”

Her eyes widened; then, to his alarm and dismay, a big tear dribbled down her cheek. “Bloody hell! I didn’t mean to make ye cry.” He brushed away the drop with his fingers, but another tear, then another, followed.

“I’m not crying,” she whispered.

“Well, then ye’ve sprung a leak, ‘cause there’s water coming out of yer eyeballs.”

A noise that sounded like a sob and laugh combined rushed from her. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. Feeling utterly helpless, he patted her back, smoothed her hair, and lightly kissed her temple. “Charlotte, please, I can’t stand to see ye cry. Why are ye so upset?”

She raised her head at that. Framing his face between her palms, she said, “I’m not upset. I’m overcome. Stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me that you’d want to marry me.”

“What did ye think I’d want?” Yet the instant he asked the question, he read the answer in her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of dishonorin‘ ye, Charlotte.”

“I’m not the sort of woman a man marries.”

“The hell ye’re not. I want you to be my wife. I want Hope to be my daughter. I guess the only question is, do you want me to be yer husband and Hope’s pa?”