Chapter 18 #2
Actually, she wanted to see Peter and speak with him before it was too late.
“I am not quite sure when they are leaving,” Abigail replied, adjusting the sleeves of Lavinia’s dress. “Lady Crawford has spoken with them, and it seems they might stay a bit longer. Though I did hear that the Duke might leave earlier than his mother and sister.”
Lavinia felt a jolt of panic at the thought.
Peter leaving? No. She could not let him go without speaking to him first. Not after last night. She needed to know if it had meant something to him or if he felt the same way she did.
“Thank you, Abigail,” she said, her heart racing in her chest. “I can manage the rest myself.”
Abigail blinked, then nodded, stepping back. “Of course, miss. I’ll leave you to it.” She exited the room, leaving Lavinia alone.
The moment the door closed, Lavinia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come next.
Her mind spun with thoughts of Peter, of the way his lips had felt on hers, the way his hands had held her close. And yet she had felt his restraint, a carefulness that both frustrated and intrigued her. He had wanted her, she knew that, but he had stopped.
Why? What did it all mean?
She could not wait any longer. She had to know.
She hurried to the door, her heart pounding as she made her way down the familiar path toward Peter’s chambers.
She remembered when she had wandered there before.
She remembered the first time she felt him near.
Her cheeks blushed at the memory of his bare torso.
She wondered what those muscles would feel like if she ever saw him again.
His room was in a secluded part of the house, far enough from the other guest rooms that it gave her a sense of privacy.
As she approached, she hesitated for a moment, her hand poised to knock. What if he rejected her? What if last night had meant nothing to him?
No, she could not think that. She had seen the way he had looked at her, felt the way he had touched her. There was something between them. There had to be.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked.
The door opened slowly, revealing Peter standing there, his expression unreadable. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the tension between them palpable.
“Lavinia,” he said, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”
She swallowed, her heart in her throat. “I need to speak with you,” she said quietly. “Please.”
Peter’s gaze flickered with something—hesitation, perhaps—but he stepped aside, allowing her to enter. The door closed softly behind her, and they were alone.
Lavinia’s heart pounded as she stood in the center of his room, her eyes fixed on him. He was as composed as ever, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid. But there was something different in his eyes, something that told her he was not as calm as he appeared.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been thinking about last night, about everything that happened, and I… I need to know where we stand.”
Peter’s expression hardened slightly, though his voice remained gentle. “Lavinia,” he said slowly, “last night was a mistake.”
Her heart sank at his words, but she refused to back down.
“It did not feel like a mistake,” she argued, her voice stronger now. “Not to me. I—” She hesitated, her cheeks flushing with emotion. “Peter, I love you.”
The words hung in the air between them.
For a moment, Peter said nothing. His face was a mask of conflicting emotions, but he did not move, did not reach for her as she had hoped he would. Instead, he sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to find the right words.
“Lavinia,” he began, his voice gentle but firm, “you don’t know what you’re saying. What happened last night… it should not have happened.”
Lavinia’s chest tightened. “Why?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “Why shouldn’t it have happened? We care about each other. I know you feel something for me. I saw it in your eyes.”
Peter shook his head, his jaw clenched. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice strained. “You think you know, but you don’t. This… this is not a game, Lavinia. Your reputation, your future—it’s all at stake.”
“I don’t care about my reputation!” Lavinia cried, stepping toward him, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I care about you. I’m willing to sacrifice everything for you. Why can’t you do the same for me?”
Peter flinched at her words, his expression a mix of anger and pain. “Because I know what the world is like,” he said harshly. “I know how cruel it can be, how unforgiving. You think you can handle it, but you have no idea what you are asking for.”
Lavinia’s eyes filled with tears, her chest heaving with emotion. “I know what I feel,” she whispered shakily. “And I know that I love you. I thought… I thought you felt the same.”
Peter’s expression softened slightly, but he did not move toward her. Instead, he looked away, his gaze distant. “Lavinia,” he said quietly, “I care about you more than I should. But this… it can only end badly.”
His words cut through her like a knife, and she felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
She had been so sure, so certain that they were meant to be together, but now, standing here in his chambers, she realized that he did not feel the same way.
He would never sacrifice for her the way she was willing to for him.
Lavinia wiped her tears, her hands shaking as she turned away from him. She could not bear to look at him anymore, could not bear the pain of knowing that he would never be hers.
Without a word, she left his chambers, the door closing behind her.
The weight of her disappointment and heartbreak pressed down on her as she walked away, leaving Peter and the shattered remnants of her hope behind.