page_130 < previous page page_130 next page > Page 130 people who are very different can make a successful marriage?" He shifted on the seat. "Are you thinking of us?" She kept her gaze on the water. "We are very different, you and I. Do you still think we shall make a successful marriage?" Clayton felt he stood on a narrow ledge high above a rocky shore. One wrong step and he would tumble. "We are different. Still, I hope we can make our marriage a success." Marisa turned her head and fixed him with a direct stare. "But you have doubts?" He looked into her beautiful eyes and saw his every doubt mirrored in the golden brown depths. Could she ever truly be happy with him? "Yes. I have doubts." She glanced away from him. "I knew I could depend on your honesty." Clayton felt as though his blood were slowly draining from his body. Marisa was slipping away from him; he could feel it as keenly as he could feel the tug of the ribbons in his hands. "Marisa, I didn't mean to upset you." She smiled, her lips stiff and trembling. "You haven't." "I just . . . we are very different." "Yes. We are." "I didn't mean to say I don't care for you." "And I didn't mean to press you into an uncomfortable situation. I just needed to know." She glanced down at her hands. "Papa may actually take me to Tattersall's tomorrow. Mama is opposed, of course, but I think I can coax her into it. Do you think it would be terribly brazen of me?" He had made a wrong step; he knew it. "I don't believe I have ever seen a lady at Tatt's."  < previous page page_130 next page >