Chapter Twenty-One
Lucas had had enough. Ophelia had been behaving oddly towards him since their discussion in his study and had avoided his attempts at light conversation during Diana’s wedding breakfast. Hadn’t they already discussed and settled the matters of their accidental kiss and his forthcoming proposal to Miss Grey?
Why was Ophelia ignoring him? He was still her client, even though he had ended their contract early.
He didn’t need it if he was indeed to propose to Miss Grey, and being near Ophelia was an unnecessary torture he wished to avoid.
But, he couldn’t avoid her just yet, and what was worse was that he knew he still cared about her.
He’d realised that after their spat earlier.
He valued their friendship and her sound judgement, and for some reason it seemed he had lost both by suggesting they take a step back from their time together and by reminding her of what he needed: a marriage of convenience and not a love match.
And he had not the tiniest scrap of an idea why.
Well, that wasn’t true. He might have some idea. He had undercut her dreams of finding true love and somewhat mocked her idea of finding a prince and securing her own happily ever after.
Poorly done.
Indeed, it had been.
He needed to apologise.
When Ophelia accepted a glass of champagne from one of the servers mingling at the wedding breakfast and turned the corner to the balcony, Lucas followed her.
When he saw no one else outside due to the slight chill in the air, he took advantage of the situation to say what was on his mind.
He spoke the moment she turned and caught his gaze.
Her eyes were wide, bright and uncertain.
And to know that he made her feel that way cut him to the quick.
‘Hello,’ he said softly.
‘Hello, my lord,’ she replied hesitantly.
He shook his head and sighed, feeling like a cad.
‘I have upset you, Miss Granger. And I am sorry,’ he offered, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
‘Tell me how I can make amends, so we can enjoy what remains of this celebration.’ He needed an answer, so whatever was broken between them could be repaired…
and quickly. ‘And how we can remain as friends now our arrangement has practically ended. I find… I find I have come to value your opinions and enjoy your company. I do not wish for our relationship to end on poor terms.’
His heartbeat was erratic, his words tentative, but he knew no other way to go forward except to just say what was on his mind. Perhaps it was her influence on him.
She was quiet for a moment as if mulling over his words.
Her gaze scanned his face and then she smiled at him.
The smile was deep and full and all for him, and he felt weak at the knees at the sight of it.
‘I accept your apology and counter it with my own,’ she replied.
‘I should not have pushed you. You are a man who knows his mind. I should not foist my ideals of what a happily ever after should look like upon you, my lord. Especially when you have been nothing but clear from the beginning that you desire no such match.’
‘Then we are friends once more?’ he pressed.
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
He lifted her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles, a daring and intimate action he knew he shouldn’t do, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The wedding guests, the ton, the world be damned.
He would kiss her this one last time, tell her the truth and be done with it.
‘And you, Miss Ophelia Granger, deserve the most beautiful and happy life…with Dolph.’ He held her gaze, and her bright blue eyes stunned him as they always did.
‘I suspect he will propose to you in time, and you would be a fool not to accept. He is a good man. One of the best I have known.’
She blushed. ‘And I wish all those things for you with Miss Grey. I am certain she already holds you in great esteem, and I know you like her. She will be a good wife to you and a lovely mother. And although I know you are reluctant…if you could open your heart to her, I think you could even grow to…love her, despite your fears of such an arrangement with…anyone.’
There was a tightness and hesitation in her words as if she almost didn’t dare say them. He couldn’t blame her, not after his reaction earlier.
He nodded and smiled at her. Was she right? Could loving someone like Miss Grey be as simple as choosing to? Would forgetting Ophelia be as simple? He didn’t think so.
‘Perhaps you are right. I will think upon it.’ He smiled and met her gaze. ‘Your friendship…our friendship…has been a blessing. An unexpected one after that first day of meeting on the street, but I am grateful for it. I treasure it.’
‘Well, you shall always have it. Unless you are an arse, of course. Then, you shall lose it.’
He laughed loudly, appreciating her attempt to soften the intensity of the moment. ‘Lady Buchanan is rubbing off on you, I see.’ He couldn’t help but enjoy her wide grin.
‘I know. Isn’t it lovely?’
‘It is.’
So was she.
The loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on.
But he needed to set her free. He was not worthy of her love.
The first step in doing that was letting go of Ophelia’s hand, which he would do soon. He would. But not just yet. He needed to savor it a bit longer. As long as he could.
And once he let go, he would never allow himself to touch her again. Touching her made him want her even more, and he knew that was not wise, or even possible.
For she was the beauty and he the beast.
‘Perhaps we can call each other by our given names now?’ he said, knowing he’d often thought of her as Ophelia already. He squeezed her hand and let go, the ache of loss immediate and sharp, like a blade through him.
She smiled back at him. ‘Yes, I would like that… Lucas.’
‘As would I, Ophelia. To friendship,’ he said, lifting his glass.
‘To friendship,’ she echoed, letting their glasses chink together.
They took a sip and headed back inside. Ophelia had just rejoined Dolph, and Lucas tried to feel content.
He had let go of the idea of her being his and they had repaired their friendship.
It would have to be enough. Despite it all, he knew Miss Grey was the best match for him and not Ophelia.
He cared for her too much, and what he needed now was safety, peace and predictability.
He did not need the highs and lows of love because they couldn’t be relied on.
He looked at Miss Grey. Charlotte. The woman was kind, sweet, and he knew she would make an amenable wife and a fond mother. She was the woman he needed, but would he be a good match for her?
He frowned. Until this moment, he had not even thought about it. Could he be a good husband? He smiled at her as she listened to an older woman chatter away, most likely about her current ailments or grandchildren. She sent him a smile and returned her attentions back to the woman and her story.
Yes, he could learn to be a good husband, could he not? And from this moment on he would endeavor to try.