Chapter 18 #3
She was shaking her head and backing away from me, but I had my answer in the way her breath hitched when she looked at me.
And blast it all, her eyes flicked to my mouth for the briefest of moments.
I stopped myself from muttering a curse at that glance.
What had she thought of that kiss? Was there even the remotest possibility it had been pleasant for her?
I shook my head again, this time harder. She’d been kissed by a stranger, alone during a storm. There was only one way she could have reacted to it.
A chill swept through the darkness of the drawing room. Heaven help me, I’d taken advantage of General Blackwell’s daughter.
What kind of blackguard was I? I’d come to this house party intending to propose to her cousin.
Her cousin.
“Miss Blackwell. I’m sorry. I wasn’t in my right head.” I still wasn’t. Not anymore. I struggled to find a safe spot on her face to look at, but they were all too close to her mouth.
“I know you weren’t.”
“I must have thought you were someone else.”
“Trust me, I was quite aware of that as well. Don’t worry, Captain, you were quite ill and weak, and it wasn’t so memorable that I haven’t been able to pretend it didn’t happen.”
Not memorable? It had been haunting me and I’d been delirious.
I gave her a weak smile. “I will forever be ashamed of my actions.”
Her eyes went heavenward. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. It was a strange night filled with words and actions that didn’t mean anything. I’ve finally come to understand I shouldn’t judge you by anything you said or did, so do not dwell on it.”
Don’t dwell on it? I couldn’t even look at her. I had no idea how long it would take until I could.
“You promised me you would stay,” I said in a hushed whisper. “You ran your fingers through my hair and promised me you would stay.”
She inhaled deeply. “Yes. Yes, I did. I thought you were dying. I was certain of it. Your breathing was . . . ”
“It is terrible, isn’t it?” I’d seen multitudes of men with such erratic breathing. I never knew which breath would be their last.
Her voice quivered. “It was.”
“Thank you, Miss Blackwell.” I kept my eyes on the hem of her skirt. “I only have flashes of memories of that night, but thank you for staying with me. I’m sorry I repaid you in such a dastardly manner.”
She swallowed hard enough for me to catch the sound of it, and I could almost feel her packing away whatever emotions that night had evoked.
“It was nothing.” She waved her hand to the side to emphasize the point and I found I could look at her fingers. “We should continue on as friends, just as we have been.”
Despite everything, that made me chuckle. “We’ve been friends, have we?”
She grabbed me by both of my shoulders and forced me to look her in the face.
“Yes.” It wasn’t an answer, it was a command, and blast it, she was skilled at giving them.
I glanced about the room, finding everyone but Mrs. Wickerton studiously ignoring us.
Miss Blackwell shook one of my shoulders and brought my attention back to her.
“We still have over a week left of this party. My parents like you very much, and I don’t want to disappoint them.
If you want to make amends, then please just pretend this conversation never happened. ”
I let out a long, slow breath. How could I resist that offer?
She released me and put her right hand out in front of her, like a tradesperson wanting to shake on a sale of goods. “Friends?” she asked.
I was a soldier, not a cardsharp with a face that could hide what I was thinking, but I tried my best. I pulled back my shoulders, tucked away the cauldron of emotions the past few minutes had stirred up, and smiled back at Miss Blackwell.
And when I took her hand in mine, I shook it, ignoring the impulse to instead pull her into me so I could apologize once again for all that I’d put her through that first fateful night, and every day since.
Friends. She was no cardsharp either, not because she didn’t have a poker face, but because she’d just ended up with a pretty wretched friend in her bargain.
What kind of friend kissed you in the dark and then forgot about it?
What kind of friend made a promise to your cousin, remained true to that promise for six years, but then faltered at the first chance to do something about it?
What kind of friend would spend the rest of his life thinking about the fact that he’d kissed you and couldn’t remember it, but imagined it all the same?
She nodded in satisfaction as if the whole situation had just been cleared up, then walked back to the table. I simply stood there.
I’d been so certain of so many things only a moment ago—who I was, what my future held, my feelings toward Miss Blackwell—and now that was all gone. It was swept away, leaving me feeling as weak as I had been when I’d woken up in the shepherd’s croft.
My carefully built plans had tumbled around me the moment I’d discovered I’d kissed Miss Blackwell, because as much as I wanted to convince her I must have thought she was someone else, I didn’t actually believe it.
I only had snippets of that night but every single memory, every thought and sensation, had been centered solely on her.