Chapter Eighteen #2
They climbed the staircase and made their way along the upstairs gallery in silence.
Florence kept her feet moving, though her pulse was racing so fast, she felt as if the world was spinning around her.
Their kiss that morning played itself over and over in her mind.
‘Later…’ he’d said. Did he mean now? Because there was no way she could even think about anything like that, not when her emotions were still so raw.
She sucked in a breath, wondering how to tell him as he opened his bedroom door, then released it again as he led her straight through his chamber, past the bed, and on into a dressing room.
‘It’s a private picnic,’ Leo announced. ‘When I went down to the kitchens for tea, I asked Mrs Hotham to make us a special hamper.’
‘Oh…’ She placed a hand to her chest, touched despite the tension now pounding in her head. A large white blanket had been spread out over the carpet, surrounded by cushions, while a red bow had been tied to the top of the hamper. ‘It looks lovely.’
‘I’m glad you like it.’ He waited for her to sit before crouching down beside the basket. ‘Although I have to admit, I’m still quite full from all the biscuits. Sandwiches might have to wait.’
‘Yes.’ She tried to laugh, but it was impossible. She felt too overwhelmed, as if she might break into tears at any moment.
‘Florence, what is it?’ His expression softened. ‘Has something happened?’
‘No. Yes. I can’t…’ She closed her eyes.
‘Try.’ Their shoulders touched as he sat down beside her. ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be so bad. Or, if it is, we’ll deal with it together.’
‘I read your letter!’ The words erupted out of her, the sympathetic look in his eyes making her feel even more wretched. ‘I know I had no right and I should have asked your permission first, but it was just sitting on your desk and I wanted to know what Mrs Fitch meant about a warning.’
‘I see.’ His voice sounded blank.
‘I’m sorry. I know I did a terrible thing when I tricked you into marrying me, but I had no idea how terrible, making you choose between doing the honourable thing and fulfilling your father’s expectations.
’ She hung her head miserably. ‘I’m not the kind of woman he wanted for you and I never can be.
And I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t know how to fix it. I just know that I don’t belong here.’
There was a long pause, disturbed only by the continued patter of rain against the window.
‘You’re right,’ he answered finally, his tone thoughtful. ‘You’re nothing like the woman my father wanted me to marry. You’re a hundred times better.’
‘What?’ She raised her eyes back to his.
‘What lady of the ton could have offered me so much advice and practical support today?’ He gave a soft laugh.
‘I admit I was furious about our marriage at first, but now I’m glad we were compromised.
From the moment I inherited my title, my whole life became about order and restraint and tradition.
When I went to London the first time this year, I was the man my father raised me to be, another version of him, cold and unfeeling and hard.
And I would have carried on that way, doing everything the way it had always been done, marrying Miss Wadlow, following Sewell’s advice, living in a cage, no matter what I really wanted. ’
‘A cage?’
‘That’s how it felt. I could see out, but I didn’t know how to escape, how to live the life I really wanted. With you.’ He lifted a hand, gently caressing the side of her face. ‘I didn’t realise it at the time, but I think I fell in love with you the first time we met.’
‘But…’ she felt stunned ‘…you were courting Amabel.’
‘Yes.’ He made a face. ‘I admit, the fact that you were friends gave me pause, but I also knew she was exactly the kind of woman my father would have chosen for me, so I convinced myself that my attraction to you didn’t matter. I thought I could ignore it.’
‘That’s…’
‘Deluded? Crazy? I know. Then we were compromised and I was so angry and resentful, I didn’t even notice that the door of my cage had just sprung open.
Instead, I was rude and hurtful and ungentlemanly, for which I’m deeply sorry.
’ He made a rueful expression. ‘You know, marrying you was the first time I ever disobeyed my father’s instructions, and once I’d done that and the sky didn’t fall on my head, I started doing other things.
I came home and ordered a herd of cows.’ His lips curved.
‘I’ve been disregarding his letter ever since our wedding day because, despite everything, you gave me the confidence to try new things, to make changes and be myself.
And since we came back here the second time, you’ve made this whole house better.
Even now, you’re chasing away the shadows and turning it into a home.
So don’t say you don’t belong, Florence, because you do. We belong here together.’
‘How can you be sure?’ Her voice cracked. As much as she wanted to believe him, it seemed too good to be true. ‘What if this is a mistake and it all goes wrong, like your father said it would?’
‘Then at least I’ll have chosen my own path.’ He smoothed his thumb across her cheek. ‘And this—us—isn’t a mistake, I already know that. I’m not just making the best of things any more. I want this. I want you.’
‘I want you too, but there’s still a whole month that I can’t remember. What if I did something even worse than tricking you into marriage?’
‘Such as?’
She dipped her head evasively. ‘I don’t know, but now I know what I’m capable of, I’m frightened that maybe there’s more, and until I remember the whole truth about myself—’
‘The truth is that we’ve both made mistakes,’ he interrupted her. ‘All I need to know is who you are now. Today. That’s enough.’
She caught her breath as he cupped her face in his hands, the expression in his eyes making her heart melt.
Now was the time to tell him about the love letters, but there was still no proof they were hers.
And if he meant what he said, about this moment’s being enough, then maybe she could finally let them go, throw them into the fire and forget about them once and for all…
‘Do you truly mean that?’ Her insides were swirling again, the way they had been that morning when he’d said Later… And suddenly, with every fibre of her being, she really wanted that to be now.
‘Yes.’ He slipped a hand around the nape of her neck, drawing her face towards him and touching his lips to hers. ‘I do.’