Chapter 29 #2
“It was.” A pause. “Several times.”
Despite everything, the corner of James’s mouth twitched.
William pointed a finger at him. “Don’t smile.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Good.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Blast you, you make it exceedingly difficult to remain angry.”
James managed a tired smile. “I assure you I’m still angry with myself.”
William nodded. “I know.”
They fell silent for a moment before he spoke again.
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you actually feel for her. Not what you’re afraid of. Not what you might become. But what you actually feel.”
James looked at the window. He thought about coming through the front door yesterday and seeing her in the entrance hall and feeling, in the one second before the hall had rearranged itself into what it actually was, simply… home.
“I love her,” he admitted with a sigh. “I realized it in London, sitting alone after Caroline left—which is not the most dignified context for an epiphany, but there it is.” He looked down at the desk.
“I realized I had known for some time and had been finding increasingly sophisticated reasons not to name it.” He paused.
“I wrote her a letter, and I came home early because I could not send it before saying the words in person. But in the end… I foolishly let her leave.”
William studied him briefly.
“You let her leave because you love her,” he said.
“I let her leave because I love her and I was afraid of being who I am.” James exhaled. “Which, I now understand, is not a distinction that would comfort her.”
“It is not a distinction that comforts anyone,” William pointed out.
“No.”
He reached up and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, seeming to contemplate something.
“Do you remember when Cecily and I were newly married?” he asked.
James frowned slightly. “She left too.”
“She did. Because I hurt her.” William gave a humorless smile. “I was terrified. Not of marriage, but of losing someone. I was terrified of turning out like my parents.”
James said nothing.
“I convinced myself she deserved better than a man who spent half his life believing affection was a weakness.” William shook his head. “I thought walking away would spare her. Instead, it nearly broke us both.”
James raised an eyebrow. “That isn’t the same.”
“Isn’t it?”
“You weren’t…” He struggled to get the words out.
“Me,” William supplied.
“No.”
“You think your past makes you uniquely dangerous.”
James’s jaw ticked, and he looked away.
“Do you know what marriage teaches you?” William pressed.
James shook his head.
“That the greatest damage is rarely done by the faults we’re afraid of. It’s done by the silence.”
James felt his heart clench. “You didn’t see her.”
“No. But you didn’t see yourself.” William’s voice softened.
“She was crying because of me.”
“Yes.” William nodded. “And you did nothing.”
James closed his eyes.
William leaned forward. “You keep speaking as though leaving were something noble. It wasn’t. It was fear.”
James stiffened, but William didn’t relent.
“Understandable fear, but fear nonetheless.”
“So what should I have done?” James asked, his eyes stinging.
“You should have trusted her not to stop loving you and to decide for herself whether you were worth the risk or not,” William answered simply.
“You’ve been my closest friend for fifteen years, and I’ve watched you bury every feeling you’ve ever had under charm and wit.
I’ve also watched my sister become happier than I’ve seen her in years. ”
James opened his mouth, and William held up a hand, cutting him off.
“I’m not telling you what she feels. That’s for her to tell you.”
James nodded slowly.
“But I am telling you this.” William’s voice became firm. “She deserved to hear the truth from your mouth before you decided what was best for her. You don’t know what she’ll say when you get to Blackmoor. She may send you away. She may not forgive you today. Heck, she may not forgive you at all.”
James absorbed that.
“But if you stay here because you’re afraid of the answer… then this conversation was for nothing.”
That hit him somewhere that ached.
“I need to go to her,” he declared.
“Yes, you do.” William nodded.
“I need to—” James stood. Sat back down. Ran his hand through his hair with the restless energy of a man who had been sitting still for too long and had too much to do and could not determine the correct order. “There is something I need to do first.”
William frowned. “What could possibly—”
James simply gave him a look, his expression tightening.
William held his gaze for a long moment before giving a single nod. “Very well.” He rose from his chair. “But listen to me.”
James looked up.
“I don’t care what business demands your attention first. I don’t care how complicated it is or how long you’ve convinced yourself it will take.” William stepped closer. “But when it’s finished, go to her.”
James swallowed hard. “I will.”
William’s eyes remained fixed on his. Then, he reached out and gripped his shoulder. “Good.” He released him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re the man you believe yourself to be.”
The words lingered between them.
“Thank you for coming,” James said.
William shook his head. “Don’t thank me. Go and deserve her.” Then he opened the door and left.
For the first time since Isadora had walked out of Ashbourne, James knew exactly what he had to do.
He only prayed he had not realized it too late.