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And it occurred to her, as she made that mad dash down the lane—clutching a blazing hot pistol in one hand and a fistful of money in the other—that this surely must mark some turning point in her life. Really, there was no going back from this. Today, all her mother’s judgments had been proved false. She wasn’t plain, but pretty. She wasn’t distracted and awkward, but confident and a crack shot. Most of all, Minerva was not hopeless. She had twenty pounds. She had an important scientific discovery. And she had Colin, the most handsome, charming devil in England, coming fast on her heels. Save
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“It wasn’t my fault,” he said. “No,” she answered. “It wasn’t.” Sweet, darling Min. From the first, this was what he’d loved most about her. Her certainty.
She couldn’t “heal” him. No woman could. Events that far in the past just couldn’t be undone. But perhaps he didn’t need a cure, but . . . a lens. Someone who accepted him for the imperfect person he was, and then helped him to see the world clear. Like spectacles did for her.
She didn’t move a muscle. But behind her spectacles, her eyelashes worked like twin ebony fans. “Marry? You?” He tried not to take offense. “I must say, Minerva. That’s not exactly the breathless, overjoyed acceptance a man might wish to hear.” “That wasn’t exactly the ardent, heartfelt proposal that might warrant one. In fact, I’m not sure it counts as a proposal at all.”
“Exactly. Colin, I do appreciate the gesture.” She bit her lip. “I think. But I won’t marry you simply because you’re feeling a sudden twinge of conscience. We both knew from the outset I’d be ruined.” “In appearance, yes. But this is actuality.” “In actuality, I don’t feel ruined at all.” She gave him a sheepish half smile. “Only a bit tender in places. Did last night feel like some grave mistake to you?” He touched her cheek. “God, no. The furthest thing from it.”
