Chapter 20 #2
My hand went to my stomach. “How frightening.”
“I was terrified. I thought of you, actually.”
“Me?” Nothing he could have said would have surprised me more.
“I thought of our future family that would never exist if I died.”
My breathing became stilted. Even though he had lived, that family still wouldn’t exist. “Did it bring you relief that you did not have to marry me?”
He shook his head. “Even with our rocky relationship, the idea of not having a future to look forward to—of not having my own posterity—felt rather bleak and depressing.” He cleared his throat, adopting his carefree tone once more.
“Don’t worry. I will find another unsuspecting girl who doesn’t know how vexing my personality is and win her over with my rusty charms. You need not look so guilty. ”
I tried to school my expression. How did one not look guilty? And how could he read me so easily? “I have never faced a near-death experience. I can see how one would regret a myriad of things. I am glad you survived.”
“A few spoke of jumping ship, but the captain told us to hold strong. My friends and I tried to keep each other’s spirits up and even made a marriage pact. Family seemed to be the only aspect of life we would really miss if we died, so we all agreed to start our own if we returned to England.”
“You must have lost.”
“Actually, I haven’t lost yet.”
“No?”
“I wrote to you half a dozen times after I returned, but I couldn’t bring myself to mail any of the letters.
I kept putting off speaking to you, letting my work distract me.
The first friend got married this spring, and it was a timely reminder.
I knew I had to keep the promise I had made to our family and to myself on that ship.
“That’s why you wrote so suddenly about our marriage.”
He nodded and his mouth curled with amusement. “That and the last one married has to pay the others one hundred pounds each.”
I gasped. “That’s a ghastly amount.”
“Isn’t it? We might be full-grown men, but as you well know from being around me, there is still a bit of a child in each of us. I suppose we wanted accountability . . . and to never forget what really mattered.”
While I did not approve of the bet, or my small, secondary role in it, my respect for Rowan and his friends grew. They could have sought after riches or positions in Society, but they had all decided to marry and begin families. It was rather refreshing.
“Do you think I’m despicable for waiting so long?” Rowan asked.
“Haven’t I always thought you despicable?” I joked.
He laughed. “I suppose so. And I thought the same of you for a long time. I think . . . I think you reminded me of my mother.”
“Me?”
“She always spoke about you—how pretty you were, how you made her laugh, how you always made her a little present when you visited. I didn’t want any reminders of her. It hurt too much. Being with you hurt too much.”
“I had no idea.” My chest grew heavy.
“Seeing you this time doesn’t feel that way at all. In fact, I’m finally seeing you in all the ways she did.”
I swallowed, the weight on my heart dissipating as rapidly as it had come. Did he really mean that?
His expression grew solemn. “You’re more than a bet to me, Arabella. You do know that, don’t you?”
My words were quiet, barely audible. “Does it matter? We aren’t getting married any longer.”
His face seemed to fall, but then his smile appeared so quickly, it made me question what I had seen. “That’s right. I have granted us both our freedom.”
Without thinking, I set my hand on his that still had my hem between his fingers. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“I know.” He turned his hand under mine and clasped my fingers to his. “Does this mean we can be friends at last?”
My stomach clenched to still the fluttering from his touch. I did not think this was what friends felt like when they held hands. I couldn’t bring myself to speak so I nodded.
His smile was sweet and touched me. “Thank you.” With a squeeze of my fingers, he released me and attempted to stand. I moved quickly to do the same. His foot stepped on my hem, and I flung forward, my hands slapping his chest. My eyes lifted to meet his amused ones.
“Careful, now. Those long legs are forever getting you in trouble.” His hand came up and brushed back a curl that had fallen over my eye and tucked it behind my ear, sending a shiver across my skin. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
I shook my head, my body paralyzed against his. “I think string bean was your favorite descriptor.”
He clucked his tongue, his hand not leaving my hair. “I could never have called you something so condescending.”
“Do not pretend like you don’t remember.”
A grin spread across his face. “I am quite sure if I called you anything, it was only terms of endearment.”
“Like giraffe?”
“I was jealous of those long legs of yours. They intrigued me. I saw them more than once as you hiked your skirts to wade in the creek, if you recall.” I felt his other hand come up and rest lightly on the back of my waist.
I swallowed, not daring to move—to end whatever this was. “I was clumsy and awkward. I was a giraffe.”
His gaze intensified on me. “That is the last way I would describe you now.” His thumb grazed my cheek, leaving a trail of heat.
“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered. His gaze traced the features of my face until his eyes landed once more on my own.
“It gutted me to see you crying tonight, but now your eyes are as bright as two silver moons.”
“Do you give that sort of compliment to all your friends?” I asked, my chest rising.
He shook his head, his gaze growing heated. “Just you.” He leaned closer, stopping inches from me. His jaw tightened. “Friends can think other friends are attractive, can they not?”
“I . . . suppose.” The word came out breathless. If by attracted he meant they desperately wanted their friend to kiss them, then a million times yes.
He seemed to read my mind, his finger slipping to my bottom lip, slowly grazing it as if time was coming to a stop. “Is this goodbye then, Arabella?”
I couldn’t speak. I wanted him to read the thoughts my lips could not speak. The ones that screamed with confusion, wishing our past would fade into a history book so he could stay.
With me.
My hands closed around his waistcoat and shirt, fearing what goodbye would look like. If only we could remain like this and pretend away any consequences. Unintentionally, I tugged him a hair closer.
His head lowered once more, and I pushed off my toes to meet him.
At the last moment his head shifted, and his lips brushed the corner of my mouth.
He stayed there for a moment, his breath teasing me.
His arms came fully around me then, crushing me to him.
I clung to him in return, my cheek pressed to his rough one, the smell of him filling every sense I possessed.
Tears filled my eyes once more. If this was goodbye, I didn’t want it to end.
But it had to. I had asked for it expressly only moments before. How could I be so changeable?
Rowan stepped off my hem and away from me, my whole body feeling hollow and empty.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll go first so no one sees that we’ve been together.”
The warmth on my hands from his chest seemed to burn my skin, and I clasped them tightly together.
Not an hour ago, I had felt trapped in my own proverbial tower built with walls of unjust obligation and years of loathing a man, but now I feared I was in far greater trouble.
Rowan’s presence hadn’t just distracted me but comforted me.
Our conversation had been easy and enjoyable.
He made me laugh and was far more kind than I had ever given him credit for.
It wasn’t just about this attraction to him that I had been fighting for weeks now, but I wanted to see him happy. I wanted him to have the family he wanted. No, there was more. Much more. I wanted to be the one to make him happy.
“Goodnight,” Rowan said, his tender gaze finding mine again right before he slipped from the room.
“Goodnight,” I whispered after him. I had finally freed myself from Rowan, but I felt like I had made the worst mistake of my life.