Chapter Thirteen
Gregory was out to sea on a wave of denial and confusion. Everything she’d spoken of made sense and was exactly what they both knew had to happen, but like her, he didn’t want to accept it.
Shouldn’t have to accept it, but he was too much a coward to say what he was only beginning to feel for her.
What if he was wrong? There hadn’t been anything about her that indicated she might share his thoughts, and even if she did, what could be done?
He had his life and place in society while she had hers.
They never should have met, would never have met had he not wished to play hero and rescue her from that attacker.
Yet that had been the singular most satisfying night of his life, because it led him to her.
And now, he was in danger of losing her due to convention and perhaps a misplaced sense of duty.
As he’d mentioned to Holdcraft the other day, making Constance anything beyond a mistress could have detrimental effects on his future clients, and even if he did marry her, how could he survive as a barrister with no clients?
He would no longer be able to support her and that he couldn’t allow.
Then his thoughts scattered when she yanked the knot from his cravat.
“When do you think you might make an offer for one of the women your parents have approved of?” A waver entered her voice, and it cut straight through his chest.
Bloody, bloody hell. “I’m not certain.” He wanted to choke on the words.
“They maintain that I need to meet one more, then I’ll need to make a decision.
” Knowing this would yank her out of his life put a ragged hole in his heart, that he would no doubt bleed out from.
“They want me wed by year’s end. I would rather come to know one of those women before I need to wed them. ”
“That’s fair. Christmastide is a lovely time for that.”
He didn’t want the holidays marred by a nuptial ceremony to a woman he didn’t love, perhaps never would, for Constance would always have his heart.
His first true love as it were. “My father has promised his hunting box in the Lake District if I accomplish this. It’s a bribe, I know, but I have long fancied that property, and since I’ll never have his title…
” God, he felt like a heel for even admitting that, but then, he’d never been in love, and it confused the hell out of him.
She dropped her gaze to something beyond his left shoulder. “That will certainly give you more reach within the ton. And with a wife, you can host gatherings…”
I don’t care about that. What was a property he coveted if he would never see her again? “Please look at me.”
Finally, she raised her gaze. Moisture glinted there; her eyes were luminous, the gold flecks in the deep brown irises quite pronounced.
She had never been more beautiful. Why had he ever thought her plain upon first meeting?
“Just leave. It makes our parting that much more difficult.” She drew in a shuddering breath.
“Though I’m not ready to give you up just yet.
At least there was that. “Do you feel you can love this man you recently met?” If she were indeed happy with her life, perhaps he could walk away. Scarred, certainly, but if it would see her well…
“Perhaps, once I know him better.” Yet a tear fell to her cheek.
His nod was curt. Damn, but his heart felt as if it would be ripped from his chest. “We both will do what we must. That has never changed, has it?”
“No, but we’ve forgotten it since that night you asked me to become your mistress.
” Another tear fell. “My wedding him is more than I could hope for, given my status.” Then her accusatory look nearly gutted him.
“How is it that he’s a viscount and didn’t bat an eye at possibly taking me to wife, but you won’t, and you are just a second son of one? ”
“Damn, you could be a barrister with such a question, and the courts would fold.” Every one of those crystal drops shattered him.
They swept into his soul and rubbed him raw.
Gregory gripped her upper arms, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“That man isn’t who you deserve; he won’t cherish you as you should be. ”
“Lord Conklin seems a decent sort.” Her moisture-spiked lashes framed brown eyes full of emotions he refused to identify. “Who do you assume I deserve?”
Me. Tell me that you would pick me if you had the chance, that I mean more to you than a protector to a mistress. Instead, he took the coward’s way out and remained silent. Emotions could lead a man astray. They weren’t real, were they?
“I don’t know.”
Constance shook her head. “This is the reality both you and I knew we had to eventually face, no matter how wonderful our time together has been.” Her voice broke.
She spent a few seconds composing herself, and it was the most pitiful thing he’d ever borne witness to.
“We were never meant to see forever. Just know that you’ve opened my eyes to so many things—”
“Bloody hell.” He couldn’t stand to see her in distress, especially not when her abject sadness mirrored his own.
How can I lose her? Did it matter how much he stood to lose if he spoke his truth?
Yet he was an idiot, too much a coward to say what was blooming in his heart it.
Without her to help him through the vortex of emotions, he would forever be lost. Of course, all of it could be a fiction, a misinterpretation, an imagining.
His position as barrister was based on facts, not feelings, so how could any of this be real?
There were no answers.
Unable to bear one more second apart from her, Gregory tugged her into his arms. It was a hard and unyielding embrace.
“Remember me, Constance. Never forget,” he said between kisses that not only set his blood aflame but also threw him atop the funeral pyre of their last moments.
It was pure folly, but he needed her like a drowning man needed air, and he suspected nothing would ever be the same once she walked out of his life.
“Never, but I want you to remember me as well. With fondness, hopefully.” She returned his kisses with her customary enthusiasm. This was not a woman who regretted what she’d done. Soon, she was as breathless as he.
And he couldn’t give her up.
If he was a gentleman, he’d let her go and exit the room, putting an end to their association without drama or an excess of emotion. But he was a selfish prick where she was concerned. “To hell with it.” Gregory propelled her through the room, then across the corridor and into the dining room.
“What are you doing?”
“Making certain you won’t forget.” Thankfully, the servants had already put the room to rights following dinner.
There were no more candles burning, and he welcomed the darkness and shadows.
At the rectangular table, he lifted her then deposited her arse upon the top.
When her legs naturally splayed, he settled between them, and cupping her face in his hands, he set out to kiss her senseless.
One more taste, one more drink, one more time before some other bloke married her, had a life with her…
The scent of her—lilies and that elusive sweetness—further stoked his passion. “Whenever I see lilies, I’ll think of you,” he said between memorizing her mouth, the shape of her lips, the feel of her in his arms.
“Always so charming.” She slid her fingers through the hair at his nape. “I’m going to miss that twinkle of wickedness in your eyes.”
When he would have begged her to run away with him, leave England to start their lives over again somewhere else, he checked himself, for this was a natural end to their relationship; it was what they’d always planned.
He just had assumed they’d have years together…
Instead, he claimed her, treated her to deep, drugging kisses that he hoped would imprint his very essence into her brain.
But even that tactile embrace wasn’t enough.
He wanted all of her, needed to be with her, so he snatched her off the table and maneuvered her between a curio cabinet and a slim bureau.
As her back connected with the wall, he continued to kiss her.
Amidst the towering furniture, she seemed small and delicate, but she was far from that estimation.
In the course of their time together, she had shown her strength and determination following the attack, her optimism in the face of rumors, her willingness and bravery to not only fall into scandal with him but to also help other women who’d been assaulted.
What would he do without that unwavering spirit, without her encouragement, without her smile when she listened to him tell her of his work?
Again and again, he kissed her, tasted her, took away her tears, made certain she’d keep his memory alive and etched upon the chambers of her heart, told himself this last parting would be enough.
That he could forge ahead into his future, do the things expected of him, and be a better man for knowing her.
Another lie to tell himself to quell the stark panic and terror welling in his chest.
When that contact didn’t settle the wild panic in his soul, Gregory slid his hands to her thighs and hefted her upward. Propped against the wall, her center aligned with his insistent erection, and he groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Gregory, please…”
“I know.” His heart broke—he had no idea it could even do that—for this was the last time he’d ever see her, at least in a personal capacity.
He might be fortunate to see her at society events, but she would be on someone else’s arm.
I can’t think about that right now else I’ll go mad.
He yanked down the bodice of her raspberry-colored gown, buried his face between her soft breasts, palmed them, fondled those quivering globes, suckled the nipples until she moaned and squirmed against him.