Chapter 19 #2
“—all I can say is that I know I cannot stand you being with someone else,” Giovanni said huskily.
“Not imagining me with someone else is not the same as loving me, Gio.” Beatrice looked up into his face with distrust. “Have you suddenly decided you love me enough to be with me? Just because another man might take me?” She shook her head. “It’s not enough.”
She didn’t pull away from him but refused to be held close. Giovanni knew he had fundamentally broken her confidence in him. He needed to prove himself to her.
“It’s not sudden, Bea.” He brushed a strand of her dark hair away from her face. She shivered, her eyelids fluttering closed. “I have always loved you enough, more than enough?—”
“But not enough to go against Silas.” Beatrice’s eyes flew open, and she grabbed his hand, holding it so tightly next to her face that Giovanni winced. “That will never change.”
“I owe my life to Silas. I will always be loyal to him.” Giovanni tried to be truthful, but articulating his deepest feelings was hard. He took a deep breath. “But if I let you go to Milton, if I don’t speak up, I would be betraying myself.”
Giovanni could see Beatrice’s anger melting but she was holding onto it tightly.
“And if Silas should reject you? Disown you?” She stared at him from those dark, blue-flecked eyes. “What then?”
“I would still choose you, Bea,” Giovanni kissed her cheeks softly, feeling her body trembling. “I know that now. I have to choose you.”
“I don’t know, Gio.” Beatrice let out a long, shuddering breath, but her hands lessened their grip, drifting subconsciously down to rest on his shoulders. “I’m so tired of this. I want to believe you love me, but…”
“Shh,” Giovanni kissed the top of her head. “I know you don’t trust me. I will have to prove it to you.”
Giovanni was kissing her, impossibly tenderly, on the lips.
Beatrice’s heart was thundering in her chest—she felt like her ribs were sore from breathing too hard.
She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, that it was complete madness for him to be in her bedroom with her brother and sister-in-law on the other side of the house, but she couldn’t help herself.
He tasted like coffee and smelled like lemons; his arms were so strong and tight around her.
He had said he loved her and finally confessed the truth of his heart.
What if he doesn’t mean it? What if he pushes me away again?
“Gio,” she whispered as his lips moved to her jaw. “Are you sure you love me? That you mean it?”
“Yes, God, I’m completely sure—” Giovanni moaned into her hair, his hands finding her waist and gripping tight, “—I love you. I’d do anything for you.”
His words made her think of what he might have to give up if things came to light.
Beatrice thought uncomfortably of how Silas would react to Giovanni’s revelation that he was in love with her.
Silas had been so delighted by the prospect of her marriage to the viscount; he had seemed so obviously relieved as if the burden of worrying about her had been lifted.
She and Giovanni were about to take that all away from him.
She imagined Silas’s angry face, his disappointment and rage at Giovanni.
She imagined him turning on the both of them, separating them forever, just as Giovanni’s grandfather had done to his parents.
She knew her brother would never hurt her, but he would do anything to protect her even if that included cutting them off from his best friend.
Beatrice closed her eyes against the horror of such a thought.
“What is it, Bea?” Giovanni stroked her eyebrow tenderly, observing her face.
“I was thinking of Silas…” she swallowed hard. “I do not want anything bad to happen to you.”
She imagined the terrible things Silas might say to them both.
Her only brother— her only family—turning against her.
It hit her like a passing carriage, the reality of what that disownment might feel like.
It was as if Giovanni finally committing to her had made all the possibilities of their relationship suddenly real.
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into Giovanni’s shoulder.
“Why must it be like this?” She murmured, his shirt soft under her skin.
“I don’t know,” Giovanni brushed her hair softly. “But no matter what happens, I will not leave your side. Nothing will part us; I will move heaven and earth for you?—”
“I don’t need you to do anything for me,” Beatrice pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes.
He was ready to go to war for her, and it was all she had ever wanted—but now she was filled with deep remorse.
She had been so caught up in the delightfully romantic notion of lovers sacrificing their all for one another that she had not until this moment fully realized what she was asking of Giovanni.
How would he feel to lose his only friend?
To know that he was the cause of a rift between her and her only brother?
“What do you mean?” Giovanni frowned slightly, brushing his thumb over her lips.
“I just...I wish it didn’t need to be so hard.” She kissed his thumb softly. All she wanted was this, to be in his arms.
“I don’t care if it’s hard,” Giovanni said earnestly. “I only want to be with you, Bea, I will be whatever you need.”
“Giovanni, I don’t need you to be anything,” she spoke slowly, holding his gaze. She needed him to see the truth in her words. “I just need you to love me. That’s all I need. Can you do that for me?”
“Have I not shown how much I love you already?” Giovanni murmured. He stroked her face with his hand, the other pressing against her breast, barely veiled by the light nightdress. Beatrice shuddered. To be touched like this was not enough. She needed to hear him say the words.
“It does not signify,” she licked her lips. “It is not enough…for a proposal.”