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“Nothing would make me happier,” Spencer repeated. “But I’m not a blackguard. If you have no regard for me, if you cannot imagine yourself loving me, then I will not press you. I won’t press you at all. What I want, my dear lady, is your happiness. I know in my heart it does not lie for you with Major Barnett.” Jane shook her head. “The world is convinced it does.” “Then the world is a fool. I would be the happiest man alive if you chose me. But I won’t ask you to, won’t coerce you.” His dark brows came down. “I want you to be free, Jane. Free to choose. Go to London. Have your Season—laugh, dance, live. If you find a better man than I there, then I’ll … well, I’ll sink into despondency for a long while, but that despondency will have a bright note. I’ll know you are happy. Find that man, and I will dance at your wedding. I promise.” Her breath came fast. “You amaze me, sir.” — Jennifer Ashley