Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After dinner, Giovanni tried to settle in to work on some papers in the study, far away from Silas and Anna’s jubilation in the drawing room.
He couldn’t do it. Looking down at the words on the paper, he could only hear Beatrice’s voice in his head, all the lovely words she had said in the inn before he had pushed her away.
I offered you everything, I offered myself, my life, the chance to bear your children…
Giovanni ran his hand over his face, groaning heavily. He hated that he had rejected her; he hated himself for turning her away.
I am prepared to risk everything, even my relationship with the only family I’ve ever known, for you…
Giovanni had believed her; he’d wanted her so much that it scared him.
He had forced himself to back away because he had known it was the right thing to do.
How could he possibly bring her the same happiness that a man like Milton could provide?
He’d grown up on the streets of Paris; he’d fought and hunted terrible men for a living, lied and stolen and collected dastardly information to use in Silas’s service.
He had collected numerous enemies and broken promises.
Nothing would erase what he had done even if he took the title Thaddeus was offering.
There was nothing that could make him worthy of her—nothing.
And yet he could not leave things as they were.
And so it was that Giovanni found his footsteps inexplicably taking him towards Beatrice’s room after everyone had gone to bed.
I shouldn’t do this. I said I wouldn’t do this, that I wouldn’t betray Silas…
Giovanni knew all these things were true but couldn’t stop his feet from taking him towards the staircase.
She was going to marry Milton. She would be lost to him forever, if Anna had her way, perhaps only in a matter of weeks.
She and Silas would push for a quick wedding.
Giovanni felt as if his body was counting the hours until Beatrice stood up in front of society and took another man as her husband.
He felt as if his whole world had shrunk to the many millions of seconds it would before that dream reality they had woven together in bed—of their future and children—was lost forever.
I can’t let it go, not without one last goodbye, not without saying something...
Nothing had changed. He was still the same man, with all the burdens of his past and all his conflicting loyalties to Silas weighing heavily on his shoulders.
But the thought of never holding Beatrice again, never feeling her lips pressed against his, never seeing that unveiled, honest love in her eyes when she was brought to the brink of passion was too much to bear.
Despite his churning thoughts, his feet still unerringly walked silently through the dark house up to her door.
Almost without his volition, his hand lifted and knocked.
Silas wants her to marry Milton. What am I doing here? I need to leave?—
“You fool,” Giovanni muttered as he ran his hand through his hair and turned away from her door.
“Gio?”
Giovanni turned, taking a quick, sharp breath in. Beatrice stood in the doorway, looking exceptionally beautiful.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“I - I don’t know,” Giovanni stammered, trying to avert his eyes.
She was wearing a thin white cotton nightdress with silver floral embroidery.
It was squared at the neckline and had no sleeves, exposing her bare, luminous skin.
Without the protection of her stays, Beatrice’s dark nipples were prominent through the thin fabric.
Catching the direction of his eye, she folded her arms across her chest. A flush was beginning to creep up her neck, but her eyes were cold.
“Don’t you think that’s something you should have worked out before you knocked on my door in the middle of the night?” Beatrice raised her eyebrows at him. “Good night.”
“Wait.” Giovanni caught the edge of the closing door and saw the flash of anger in her eyes. “Let me come in so we can talk about this.”
“Come in?” Beatrice laughed. “You want to come into my room with Silas in the house?”
“I just want to talk,” Giovanni explained, but Beatrice was playing tug-of-war with the door.
“You want to talk with me alone in my room?” Beatrice let go of the door and gave him a firm push.
“You don’t want to marry me because you’re afraid of Silas’s reaction, but you want to visit me in the middle of the night and then slink away like a cad?
Like one of those light-skirts you’ve entertained before? ”
“No, of course not,” Giovanni exclaimed, hating the implication behind the words.
“Then leave,” Beatrice said, pointing down the corridor. “Leave now before you endanger both of our reputations.”
“I can’t.” Giovanni pushed back, squeezing through the door and closing it behind him with a sharp snap.
Her eyes widened in shock and he knew he was completely overstepping, but he couldn’t stop.
He was over the line now; he had crossed the first hurdle.
He couldn’t go back, he could only go forward.
“Get out, Gio!” Beatrice demanded, trying to pull the door open behind his back, but he leaned against it with all his weight.
“I can’t.” He looked down at her. They were so close that he could smell her lavender-scented hair. He couldn’t help leaning in towards her face. She looked up at him warily. “I have to talk to you.”
“And say what?” Beatrice threw up her hands and stalked away from him, but Giovanni wasn’t fooled. He had seen the flicker of desire in her eyes. She was using her anger to bury her need.
“Please listen,” he tried to keep his voice level, but it was useless. Beatrice wanted to fight.
“There is nothing more to say.” She turned to look at him, her beautiful face a conflicted picture of want and fury. “I have accepted the proposal of another man. I will be married to Lord Milton.”
“That’s what I want to talk about.”
“Oh, now you want to talk about it?” Beatrice laughed bitterly. “You had nothing to say when Silas and Anna asked if I would marry Jasper?—”
“Don’t call him that,” Giovanni said through gritted teeth.
He hated hearing another man’s name on her lips.
Giovanni wished wildly that he could duel the viscount for Beatrice’s hand, beat him honorably and walk away knowing he had won her hand in true deed, but he couldn’t.
If he was to win Beatrice back, he needed to do it with his words.
Win her back? Is that what he was doing here? Yes. That resounding voice in his head—in his heart—could not be denied.
“And you had nothing to say at the inn when I offered myself to you,” Beatrice kept speaking, her eyes flashing dangerously, “you were utterly silent then when I practically begged you to choose me?—”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Giovanni exploded, clenching his hands into fists. She had such a way of making him crazy.
“So what?” Beatrice glared at him. “It doesn’t matter. The decision has been made.”
“So, I’m too late?” He asked as calmly as possible, finally reining in his temper. “That’s what you’re saying to me?”
Giovanni’s worst fears were being confirmed in front of his eyes. He watched Beatrice shake her head at him in disgust.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” she retorted disdainfully.
“Why? Are you afraid of your feelings?” Giovanni asked, trying to coax that familiar flicker of desire out of her eyes. If she still wanted him, maybe there was a chance for him. There had to be a chance.
“No, I just refuse to give you yet another chance to add to my pain,” she said scornfully. “Do you think I will tell you the secrets of my heart just for you to turn away from me and hurt me? Again?”
“That’s not what I meant to do, and you know it,” Giovanni whispered, ashamed of the pain he heard in her voice.
“I don’t care,” Beatrice snapped, the pain vanishing behind that quick flame of anger. “It is completely irrelevant what you meant or what you do because I am going to be a viscountess!”
It should have sounded petulant and foolish coming from her lips, but it didn’t. It only sounded desperately sad. She was right, it didn’t matter; she had said she would marry the viscount and had told her brother. Nothing he said mattered now, but he still couldn’t leave.
“I shall marry the viscount, Jasper—” she emphasized his name deliberately, watching him grind his teeth in frustration.
“I shall bear his children and never think of you, and you shall watch me and not care a whit as you continue to give your body to women you care nothing for. We shall both be perfectly happy with our choices, won’t we?
” Beatrice’s words were sharp, but her eyes were glittering with tears. “So why, Gio? Why are you here?”
“Because I can’t stand the idea of another man marrying you!” Giovanni shouted, his temper returning in full force, slamming his fists against the door. Giovanni was suddenly grateful that Beatrice’s rooms were so far from Anna and Silas’s suite. No one would hear their raised voices.
“Can’t stand it? This is what you wanted!” Beatrice shouted back. “You practically pushed me on him, and now you have the gall to suggest you can’t stand it?”
“Of course, I can’t!” Giovanni grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly. “You are mine, Beatrice, you’ve always been mine. How could I let you go into another man’s arms? To another man’s bed?”
Giovanni could see her eyes widening at his words, could see that his admission excited her, but the words clearly weren’t enough. She shook her arm free from his grip with a snort of derision.
“If I were truly yours, you would have claimed me when you had the opportunity,” she hissed angrily. “Instead of turning me away, instead of humiliating me?—”
“I’m not turning you away now.” Giovanni pulled her close. “I know I hurt you and I have no excuse?—”
“No, you don’t,” Beatrice interrupted, but she allowed herself to be pulled into the circle of his warmth.