Chapter 37 #2
I clasped my hands together to keep from fidgeting.
“It’s hard to explain a lifetime.” I prayed for better words than the ones from my letters.
“There was so much expectation and pressure both before and after my parents died. I rarely left the house. Those old castles in Northumberland that you mentioned? I have never been to any of them. I felt . . .” I tried to think of the right word to describe the intense feelings that had chased me from this place.
“You felt smothered?” he asked.
Those were the same words I had used at his aunt’s tea party. He had remembered. “Yes. Exactly.” I swallowed back the emotion that his understanding brought. “Worse, I felt my brother had abandoned me. When he wrote of my engagement, I . . . I ran like a coward.”
He shook his head. “Leaving all the comforts of home in order to be a governess and companion sounds brave to me.” His jaw tightened. It was so subtle I almost missed it. “Do you regret it?” he asked.
I squared my shoulders. “Not at all. I felt pulled to leave. I know my path, as difficult as it was, was the right decision.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned slightly away from me. “Good.”
Good? What did that mean? Had he forgiven me? Did he still care? “May I ask a question of my own now? Why did you come?”
His eyes met mine. “How could I not come? Augusta was harassing me day and night.”
My heart stuttered to a stop. I hoped he was teasing. Augusta must have heard her name mentioned because she snuck a glance at us.
Before I could ask Atlas to clarify, in a lowered voice he said, “Speaking of Augusta, did you know she has persisted in reading on her own every day? In all my life, I have never seen her voluntarily pick up a book before. Can you guess what she is reading?”
I shook my head, not caring as I should. I wanted to speak about us.
Atlas gave me a half smile. “She is reading History of Animals. I have even read it with her a few times to make certain she could understand it. It is a slow process, and she is picking through it and reading the parts that interest her, but it is still quite remarkable.”
“I am proud of her,” I said, the thought warming me. “That is no short text.”
As wonderful as it was to hear about Augusta, I was longing to know about him. I wanted to know about Briggs, about his cottage hospital, about us. There wasn’t enough time. I had to be brave and fast. “I admit, I had hoped you had come for a different reason.”
Atlas’s mouth pulled into a slow grin. “Indeed, I had to discover if your intended is as handsome as I am.”
I sputtered a laugh, completely caught off guard. “And if he is, will you challenge him to a duel?”
Atlas’s lips pinched together in thought. “If it’s fisticuffs, I might risk tiring my swimming arms. Who knows when there will be a damsel in distress who needs me.”
“Then I shall challenge him to a duel.” I had not meant to make this declaration so loudly.
There was a lull in the conversation in front of us, and Reginald jerked his head over his shoulder—his older brother stare full of censure.
If I had to make an idiotic threat, I should learn to keep my voice down.
It was a sure sign that I had not included enough fiction in my repertoire. My imagination was lacking.
When Reginald turned back around, Atlas glanced at me. “So you would kill your fiancé before taking a chance to know him?”
“It would simplify matters.”
His mouth worked together, and I daresay he was fighting to hold back a laugh. “I’m impressed that you would go to such lengths to protect my pride. What shall it be, swords or pistols?”
“Pistols, of course.”
“Of course?” He eyed me. “Have you ever shot a gun before?”
“How hard could it be? You just point and shoot?”
He covered his mouth with his fist, but I knew he was laughing. “We might be taking our game of challenges too far.”
He was right. Mr. Hanover was on his way, and the only conclusion we had arrived at was that I was to kill him if he was more handsome than Atlas.
This did not bode well. But being with Atlas, laughing with him again, had lifted my soul.
“For the record,” I said, lowering my voice so there was no doubt Reginald would overhear this time. “I won’t marry Mr. Hanover. I cannot.”
Atlas met my gaze, his whole demeanor softening. “I certainly won’t make you.” He stepped closer to me, his arm brushing mine, whispering in return. “Even if he is a far better man than I am.”
I dipped my head. “He could never be a better fit for me than you.”
Atlas’s gaze turned somber. “Estelle, I—”
“He’s here,” Reginald announced ahead of us.
I looked up to see the carriage round the corner. If I had not been so enthralled with Atlas, I might have heard it sooner. Panic filled my middle. Instinctively, I reached out and gripped Atlas’s forearm. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. You opened a door of possibilities, and I will not let it close just yet. You do not belong with Mr. Hanover.”
My eyes stung with emotion. “No, I don’t,” I whispered back.
He reached over and set his hand on mine. “We’ll fix this together.”
I loved this man. He knew my imperfections—my fears and my struggles. He had seen me act the fool and say the wrong words. And yet he still cared.
My mother had been mistaken. Being a Society diamond was not everything.
Chasing perfection hadn’t brought me any happiness.
But living, caring, serving, challenging each other—those things mattered.
Those were the places love blossomed. There had been no romantic moments for Atlas and I on the dance floor of a ballroom, or carriage rides through Hyde Park, or any of the other gilded moments of a spectacular London Season.
The simple moments on a bench, in the stables, and in the kitchen larder outshined any of those for me.
Our love was not at all the one I had imagined for myself before I had left home.
But as I met his gray-green eyes and saw myself reflected there, I do believe our story was better.
We had lived in the same house, broken bread at the same table, struggled and challenged each other.
We had rescued each other from our darkest moments.
We had grown close despite all the reasons claiming it impossible.
I didn’t care who Mr. Hanover was. I already knew the man I wanted to marry.