Chapter 14 #2
They continued to chat until the carriage finally rolled to a stop. As they exited the vehicle, Sariah noted that the crowd looked rather diminished than on previous visits to the academy. “Have we been granted a private showing?” she asked curiously.
“I am not certain,” Maggie said noncommittally, but she exchanged a glance that was not lost on Sariah.
She narrowed her focus on both of them. “Is something going on that you are not telling me?”
“Of course not. Why would you suggest that?” Ava said with a bright smile.
This time, Sariah was convinced that there was something afoot, but before she could ask them further about it, they entered the establishment.
A gentleman walked over to them. He smiled kindly. “Miss Kent?” Maggie and Ava hung back slightly as the man bowed slightly to Sariah. “If you would follow me?”
Sariah obeyed, but not without a glare for her friends who looked entirely too guilty for her peace of mind. With pursed lips, she was about to ask the man what this was all about when he paused before a room further down the hall and waved a hand for her to enter. It was the main gallery.
She narrowed her focus but moved forward while he hung back and shut the doors behind her. A sense of foreboding washed over her.
Something wasn’t right…
And then she realized what had caused the unease.
Reed.
He was standing with his back to the door, hands clasped behind him as he looked at one of the portraits on the wall.
He was dressed in the height of fashion in navy breeches and a matching jacket.
If no one would know he wasn’t part of the aristocracy, they would believe him to be an earl, or even a duke.
Even his manner of speech was smooth and even.
“This portrait makes me think of the first time we met, when you strode across the edge of the Peerless Pond as if you had every right to be there. This girl has the same direct approach to her gaze as you did that day.”
Sariah stayed where she was across the room, but she could clearly see the image in question.
“That is Pinkie by Thomas Lawrence. I have seen it here before and the portrait is quite remarkable, although I would not dare to say I resemble her in any manner. And I must point out that her sash and bonnet are pink, not her entire dress.”
He turned slowly. He wore a tan waistcoat threaded with gold, a crisp white cravat at his neck.
His blond hair was brushed back from his forehead and glinted with strands of gold when it caught the overhead lighting.
He was still her perfectly imperfect Adonis.
She might still be angry at him for saying such horrid things that weren’t true, and then departing so abruptly, but her heart could not tell the difference.
He was still the man she loved with every single beat of her heart.
He put a hand on his chest. “My mistake.” He paused, as if waiting for her to rail at him, but she was more interested to see how he intended to handle this reunion.
However, when he didn’t immediately speak, she pointed out her favorite Gainsborough painting.
“If we are comparing artists, I would have to say I have long admired The Blue Boy. It is understood that he did the piece as a direct contradiction to Sir Joshua Reynolds’ advice regarding his use of color.
” She shrugged. “But that may merely be idle gossip.”
“Indeed,” he murmured. “It can be very difficult to distinguish between what is fiction and what is reality, can it not?”
She felt they were finally getting to the heart of the matter. Lifting a brow, she said, “I am not so confident about that. I think if one has the facts sorted out correctly, it is rather easy to discern the truth.”
He smiled slightly. “A well-founded point, Miss Kent.”
It was back to the formality. She wanted to scream.
Through gritted teeth, she replied, “It appears that way, Mr. Carrington.” Refusing to stay here and make polite conversation when her heart was wounded anew just by being in the same vicinity, she lifted her chin.
“If you will excuse me, I regret that my friends are waiting on me and I must go—”
She didn’t have the chance to turn around before he spoke again. “I love you, Sariah.”
Her breath caught, her heart ceasing to beat. She couldn’t speak, but she did not need to do so.
“I have been trying to figure out the best way to tell you how I feel—how I really feel—for so long, but I always had some sort of excuse for not doing so. I told myself it was not the right moment whenever the urge would strike, that we had not known each other long enough for such feelings to be genuine. However, that was all a lie I had spun myself into believing.” He took a deep breath.
“For years, I had convinced myself that the aristocracy was a source of evil and wicked machinations, that everyone who had blue blood considered themselves above me.” He glanced at the Gainsborough portrait.
“The young man portrayed here is not so different than me, and yet so very opposite. It is obvious that his costume is one of wealth and privilege, whereas his blue attire is so similar to what I had to don everyday as a blue boy. Because of our association, and my ability to see things a bit more clearly from the standpoint of the upper echelon, I realize that all this time, I was the problem. I could not get past my prejudices of the social classes. I was no better than the Duke of Ganoway that day in the park.”
His focus returned to Sariah. “The morning I left the Harville estate, I was convinced that you had betrayed me, that you had proven yourself invaluable, unloyal, because it was what I had been expecting all along. But what it took me too long to understand is that you are completely without fault, that because of my insecurities, I allowed myself to believe the worst of you, when it was a mirror image of what I saw in myself.”
He started to move closer to her in even, measured strides.
“I was wrong, so very wrong. I said terrible, malicious things to you that no one should have to endure, especially someone that I was convinced I cared about. I know I hurt you. I know I upset you. I know I acted as a righteous bastard, and I take the full blame and responsibility for my actions.” He stopped a short distance from her.
“Since that morning, I have nearly worked myself into a frenzy wondering what I could say, or do, to repair the damage I have caused and I can think of no solution that would ever wipe away those words. All I can do is hope that you will forgive me someday and offer you something I had never before imagined I would share with anyone else—my life.”
He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a small, hinged box in blue velvet.
He did not bend down on one knee, but opened the case to reveal a sparkling sapphire.
“Sariah Kent, I offer you not just my hand, or my body, but my life. If you will have me, I vow that I shall spend the rest of the days I have remaining on this earth doing everything I can to atone for my sins and make you happy. I cannot offer you a family heirloom passed down from generations. All I can offer as a symbol of my honest affection is this ring, which I purchased because it reminded me of the blue water from the Pond. That day was nearly a tragedy, but I am of the utmost hope that our story does not end that way.”
Sariah could no longer hold back the tears in her eyes. They stung her vision and she had to blink several times to clear the moisture wanting to gather there.
Closing the final distance between her and Reed, she gathered his handsome face in her hands.
Looking him in those remarkable green eyes, she whispered, “I agree, you have been a comprehensive idiot, who was too blind to see the truth when it was staring him in the face.” She smiled.
“But you are also a man whom I love to distraction. All I really needed to hear was the same.”
She saw a momentary flash of hope in his eyes. “Does that mean—?”
“Hush now and kiss me.”
She lifted on her tiptoes as he readily complied.