Chapter 18
Immediately, he wondered why he had asked the question. Did he really want to know the answer? Or rather, he did want to—curiosity was certainly getting the better of him—but would she tell him?
What if this is a mistake? If she really does need this place, finding out more about that could give me a reason to let her stay. I am certainly not looking for reasons to convince myself to keep her here.
But that was going to be enough trouble anyway, he knew. It was already getting hard to imagine life without her. The bond he had formed with Liam seemed so much richer when she was included in it. And then there were all the little stolen moments. Moments like the one they were in right now.
She filled up the house, in a way. It was more vibrant, more alive, because she was here. And it was difficult to think about what things might be like after she was gone.
“I would tell you why,” Violet said carefully. “If you really want to know. I didn’t have the impression you were that interested in things about my past.”
“Perhaps it’s time we all learned a little more about one another, though,” Jonathan suggested. “We’re both glad to know more about Noah, aren’t we? Even though the things we learned are so horrifying, it’s better to know.”
“It is,” she agreed. “I’m glad to know. And I’m glad he’s safe with us now, away from the people who treated him so miserably.”
“So tell me about you,” he urged.
“Well, nothing in my life was ever that bad,” she told him. “My father never cared much about me or my well-being, but he wouldn’t have raised a hand to me, and he kept a roof over my head until recently.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Until recently?”
“When he remarried—my mother died when I was young—he gave in to his new wife’s wish to have me out of his house,” Violet explained.
“But even then, he didn’t put me out on the street.
I don’t think he wanted to give in to his new wife’s demands, but he simply thought he might lose her if he did otherwise.
He is a weak man. In spite of his bluster, he doesn’t have the strength of his convictions.
Not that his convictions ever favored me that strongly in the first place,” she added.
“He never cared to be a father. At least, not to me. So while I think he might have felt a bit strange about turning me out, I’d imagine that the only thing he feels now is happy to be rid of me. If he thinks about me at all, that is.”
“That’s rather sad,” Jonathan said, frowning.
It wasn’t as awful and tragic as Noah’s story—Violet had been a grown woman, not a child, when her father had turned her away.
Still, it made something deep within him ache with sadness to think that her father had never cared for her, that he had been all too happy to let her go because he had married a woman who hadn’t wanted her there.
“And so you need this place,” he surmised. “Because you can’t return to your father, and you need a place to live.”
“That’s right,” she murmured.
He leaned back in his chair, considering that.
He didn’t want to do as her father had done. He didn’t want to turn her out of the life she was trying to build. Especially not if she had nowhere else to go.
But this house…he had dreamed of it, had been captivated by it, for so long. No, he didn’t need it, but could he really let go of it just like that?
I could. But I don’t want to.
He got to his feet and walked over to the bookshelf. He had been unable to concentrate on his book anyway, so he put it back. Then he went to the window and gazed out into the inky darkness.
A moment later, he felt her presence by his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“What are you sorry for?” He didn’t turn to look back at her, not yet. He waited to hear what she would say.
“I think I upset you,” she said. “I think something about that story bothered you, and…well, I worry you think I’m manipulating you now. That I told you that so you would give me the house. I hope you know I’m not being dishonest.”
“I didn’t think you were.” He sighed. “And you told me that story because I asked to hear it. It’s that simple. I know it is. I don’t think you’re trying to manipulate me.”
“But you do feel something because of what I said.”
“I’m not as cold as you’ve accused me of being,” he murmured. “Not at all. Of course it makes me feel something I hate to even think about you being forced out of your home, Violet.”
There was a long silence during which the words Violet wasn’t saying aloud hung heavy in the air. He wondered whether she could hear them as loudly as he could.
You’re about to force me out of my home again. That was the thing she wasn’t saying, the thing Jonathan was sure they were both thinking.
And it cut him like a knife.
He swallowed hard. “Violet,” he said, “You know…however this all turns out, I have grown to care about you. I hope you know that. I don’t want to see you all alone in the world with nowhere to go.
So if I end up keeping the house, I’ll make sure you’re provided for.
I won’t send you off with nowhere to go.
I’ll see to it that you have enough money to find somewhere else to live—somewhere safe and nice where you can be happy and live the life you want to live. ”
She opened her mouth quickly, and Jonathan was momentarily sure she was going to snap back. To remind him that the life she wanted to live was here, and that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her that easily.
But she hesitated, closing her mouth briefly, and when she did begin to speak, it was in a much softer tone than he had anticipated from her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re accepting?”
“I’m thanking you,” she said firmly. “Don’t take it as more than it is. I’m not giving you the house. It’s mine. I’m still determined to stay here and to raise Noah. But…it does ease my worry to know that you wouldn’t allow me to be put out on the street.”
“No,” Jonathan agreed. “That’s one thing you truly should not worry about.
The rest of it…all right, we’ll figure it all out.
But you shouldn’t fear being left with no place to go.
I promise I won’t let that happen. Whatever else might happen between the two of us, whatever might happen with this house, when the dust settles you will have a home. I promise that.”
Her head dropped, and for a moment, he thought she might be crying. But when she looked up again, her eyes were dry, though her face was serious.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been worrying about this.
I don’t think I realized just how much I had been worrying, but I have.
I…I’m upset about losing the house, I’m upset about the possibility of losing Noah.
But beneath all of that was this other worry, this fear that I would be left with nowhere to go.
It helps me more than I can tell you to know now that that isn’t going to happen. ”
Her voice, her eyes…they were so sincere. He had never seen her look so vulnerable and open before. She beamed up at him, and for a moment, he couldn’t help himself—he reached up and tucked a lock of loose hair behind her ear.
She froze, her eyes going wide. But only for a moment. Then they fluttered shut, and she curled her head to one side, leaning into his touch. Did she recognize that she was doing that? Had she meant to do it? And if so, why?
He didn’t know, but the thought of withdrawing his hand was more than he could bear. He froze too, right there, heart hammering, her skin smooth against his fingertips, her breath warm and quick on the inside of his wrist.
What am I doing? What am I thinking? This is dangerous.
He released her and took a quick step backward, needing distance between the two of them. Her eyes flew open when she felt the loss of contact, but she said nothing. She continued to watch him, as though something might be made clear to her.
He didn’t know what to say. It was minor, to be sure, but he had crossed a line here. He had told her that there would be no crossing of lines, no scandal, that he would behave like a perfect gentleman. And he hadn’t done that.
Maybe I don’t wish to be a perfect gentleman. Maybe I don’t like that idea anymore.
And for the first time, Jonathan allowed his daydream to go a little farther.
What if he did more than just wishing and yearning when it came to Violet?
What if he allowed her to become more than just an idle fantasy?
He hadn’t done that so far because he had been so sure she was leaving soon, and because she had driven him mad.
But standing here in front of her, all he could think about was how he didn’t want her to go.
We’re going to have to come to another arrangement, he thought, because I am not ready for this woman to leave my life.
“I should go back to bed,” she said quietly, looking away from him and making him wonder how much making up to her he was going to have to do because of tonight’s indiscretion.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I should not have been so forward.”
“No,” she murmured, her gaze still averted from his. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” But the color in her cheeks gave away the lie.
And now she was leaving the library, and as he watched her go, all he could think was that if she had been so happy about having his hand on her face, she wouldn’t be leaving. She would have stayed. She might have told him it wasn’t proper—he would have agreed—but she would have stayed.
He took back the book he had put on the shelf and went back to his chair.
Maybe she could sleep after all this, but he would be even less able to than before.
He opened the book up to the page he had been looking at last, but he couldn’t even bring his eyes to focus on the words.
It was hopeless. He closed the book again.
I can provide her with a new place to live if needed. I can give her money. But I can’t give her Noah without sacrificing the house—and sacrificing my own place in Noah’s life.
The thought cut through him like a knife, and he closed his eyes and let the pain roll over him.
What had the two of them gotten themselves into?