Chapter 26 Tenth Day of Wooing a Wife #2
"I never loved you." Aubrey's voice carried through the entrance hall with absolute certainty. "I was infatuated, yes. Foolish, absolutely. But I never loved you, Rose. I didn't even know you."
"That's not—"
"I refused to bed you not because of honour.
" Aubrey cut her off. "I refused because deep down, in some part of me that still had sense, I knew I was using you.
Using you to rebel against my parents. Using you to avoid a marriage I was too cowardly to give a real chance.
You were never more than a means to an end.
A fantasy of freedom that had nothing to do with who you actually were. "
Rose's hands trembled. "You said you loved me."
"I said what you wanted to hear. What I wanted to believe.
" Aubrey's face was hard. "But I never knew you, Rose.
I never asked about your dreams or your thoughts or what you wanted from life beyond me.
I didn't love you. I loved the idea of escape.
And you," his voice dropped lower, "you knew that.
You used it. Used me just as much as I used you. "
He reached into his dressing gown pocket and pulled out something small and golden. A locket.
"I believe this belongs to you."
Aubrey threw it down the staircase. The locket tumbled through the air, catching the sunlight, before clattering across the marble floor and sliding to a stop at Rose's feet.
Rose stared at it, at the locket now opened to her miniature portrait.
"That's what I think of your love," Aubrey said quietly. "And of the man I was when I believed in it. Get out of our house, Rose. Get out and never come back."
Rose's face crumpled. She bent and snatched up the locket, clutching it to her chest like a talisman. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with tears and rage.
"You deserve each other," she spat. "A coward and a cold fish. I hope you're miserable together."
"We won't be," Aubrey said. "Not anymore."
Rose turned and fled, her footsteps echoing through the entrance hall until the front door slammed behind her.
The silence that followed was profound.
Then Eleanor saw Aubrey sway, his face going grey, his grip on the banister loosening.
"Aubrey!"
She hiked up her skirts and ran up the stairs. Morrison and the footman were trying to support Aubrey's full weight as his legs threatened to give out.
"Get him to his room," Eleanor gasped. "Quickly!"
Between the three of them, they managed to half carry, half drag Aubrey back to his bedchamber. He was breathing hard, his face white with pain, his entire body trembling from the effort of standing.
"Out," Eleanor said sharply to Morrison and the footman once they'd gotten Aubrey onto the bed. "Leave us."
Morrison looked uncertain. "But my lady, his lordship may need—"
"Leave. Now."
They fled.
Eleanor turned to Aubrey, her hands shaking as she helped him settle against the pillows. His face was ashen, sweat beading on his forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly she feared he might crack his teeth.
"You fool," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You absolute fool. You shouldn't have. You might have injured yourself."
"Had to." Aubrey's voice was strained. "Couldn't let her… say those things…"
"Laudanum," Eleanor said, reaching for the bottle on his bedside table. "Let me give you—"
"No." Aubrey caught her wrist weakly. "No laudanum. Just… Stay. Please."
Eleanor's throat tightened. She set down the bottle and climbed onto the bed—not caring about propriety, not caring about anything except the man before her who had dragged himself out of bed, injured and in agony, to defend her.
She gathered him into her arms as gently as she could, cradling his head against her shoulder, one hand stroking his hair while the other held him close.
"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here. I've got you."
Aubrey's arms came around her waist, holding her with surprising strength despite his pain. His face pressed against her neck, his breathing ragged and uneven.
They stayed like that for a long time. Eleanor holding Aubrey while he trembled with pain and exertion, his arms tight around her waist, his breath warm against her skin.
"I meant it," Aubrey said finally, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "Everything I said. I never loved her. I was a fool, Eleanor. A blind, selfish fool."
"I know." Eleanor's hand continued stroking his hair, the gesture soothing for both of them. "I believe you."
"But I love you."
Eleanor's hand stilled. Her breath caught.
"I love you," Aubrey repeated, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.
His face was still pale with pain, but his expression was fierce.
Certain. "I love your strength and your kindness and your brilliance.
I love the way you manage estates and care for orphans and refuse to let anyone diminish you.
I love the woman you continue to be despite everything I did to break you.
I love you, Eleanor. And I don't deserve you. But I love you."
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears. "Aubrey—"
"You don't have to say it back." His hand came up to cup her face gently.
"You don't have to feel the same way. I just…
I needed you to know. Needed you to hear it.
That what I feel for you is real. That it's nothing like what I felt for Rose.
That you're…" His voice cracked. "You're everything, Eleanor.
Everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I was too foolish to see. "
A tear spilled down Eleanor's cheek. Then another. And then she was crying in earnest, pressing her face against Aubrey's shoulder while he held her, both clinging to each other like drowning people finding shore.
"I can't," Eleanor whispered against his neck. "I'm so afraid."
"I know." Aubrey's hand stroked her back in soothing circles. "I know you are. And you have every right to be. I've given you nothing but reasons to fear trusting me."
"I forgave you." The words came out muffled.
"Days ago. When I learned about Rose's lies.
When I understood why you'd been so cruel.
I forgave you, Aubrey. But forgiveness isn't the same as trust. And I need to know that this is real.
That you won't leave. That this isn't just gratitude or lust or—"
"It's not." Aubrey pulled back to look at her, his blue eyes intense despite the pain etched in his face. "Eleanor, listen to me. I'm not leaving. Not after Christmas. Not ever. This is my home now. You are my home."
"You say that now."
"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives if that's what it takes for you to believe me.
" His hand tightened on her back. "I dragged myself out of bed, barely able to stand, in agony, just to throw away a locket and tell Rose Beaumont I never loved her.
Do you think I'd do that if this weren't real? "
Eleanor laughed despite her tears. "That was remarkably sweet."
"It was." Aubrey smiled, though his face was still white with pain. "And it was worth it to see her face, to defend you. To make it clear to everyone—to the servants, to you, to myself—that you are my wife. The only woman I want."
Eleanor pressed her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, breathing together, both afraid and hopeful in equal measure.
Outside, winter sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the room where a husband held his wife for the first time with real love.
And where a wife, for the first time in two years, allowed herself to hope that perhaps dreams didn't always have to end in disappointment.