“I do not know why you are so determined to keep me at arm’s length, Lionel, nor why you are so mercurial with your affection toward me,” she said with every fiber of her strength, holding her sore head high. “If you were a rake, it would make sense, but you are not. You have shown, time and again, that you care for me. You are pushing me away for a reason, but I should like to give you a reason to stop.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Clearly you are still suffering from your head injury,” he said. “Let me send for someone to return you to your bedchamber.”
“No, Lionel. I will not be silenced, and I will not have you use my bruised head as an excuse. I am not in my father’s house anymore; I will speak without fear.” She cleared her dry throat. “I am falling in love with you, Lionel.Havefallen in love with you, in truth. I tried not to, I promise I did, but… my heart is yours and I cannot change the way that I feel.”
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as the words left her lips, finally out there in the open for his ears only. They could not be stuffed back inside her mouth or taken back, and as she stood there, watching Lionel’s face transformed by a ripple of shock, she prayed he would not make her wish that she could.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
She loves me…
Lionel stared at her, too shocked to speak. They were words that should have heartened him, should have made him feel like singing and dancing through the hallways of Westyork, but in place of joy he found only sorrow.
He had hoped to avoid hurting her too badly. Now, it seemed to be inevitable.
“D-Did you hear me?” Amelia asked, her eyes blinking rapidly, her entire demeanor stiff with nervous anticipation.
“I heard you,” he replied flatly.
Leave, love. Leave before I must say what I do not want to say.
Her throat bobbed. “Am I to have no response?”
“I have responded.”
Please, Amelia. Do not press me.
She pulled her shoulders back, straightening her posture. “I must have missed it.” She paused, the silence stretching between them until it threatened to snap. “What do you feel for me, Lionel? I know it is not nothing. I know I am not imagining things.”
Lionel sipped from his mostly empty cup of tea, buying himself to time to come up with an answer that would not be too brutal. It would break his heart and hers to crush her entirely, to see her sadness, but a broken heart now was likely better than a shattered heart later. Easier to repair with time.
In truth, he hoped that, by saying nothing at all, she would be able to fashion a suitable answer for herself.
He should have known that Amelia would not permit that, however.
“Lionel… what do you feel for me?” she repeated with some urgency, her voice catching and, in doing so, forming the first crack upon his heart.
He raised his gaze to her, schooling it into the sort of cold calm that he had once been known for. “I feel that we ought to live separately. The month of our honeymoon is coming to a swiftend, but I see no reason to wait. You can stay here, while I shall make alternative arrangements.”
The look he had been dreading came immediately. Amelia’s face fell, her lower lip trembling, her watery eyes creased as if in terrible pain, her throat moving with every strained swallow. She was fighting to keep her composure—he could see that—but she was struggling.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her hand clasped to her heart.
“Why am I heeding our agreement?” he replied, deliberately flippant. “I told you that we would only keep up appearances for the duration of our honeymoon. If London is your preference, arrangements can be made to take you there for the winter.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “That was how things began, I do not deny that, but… things have changed, Lionel.” Her shaky breaths hitched. “Youcannot deny that. You… youkissedme, Lionel! You kissed me and you held me, and you fell asleep with me. You have behaved not as a husband of convenience but as a true husband.”
The memories of every sweet moment he had spent with Amelia swept into his thoughts, as if begging him to reconsider, reminding him of what he stood to lose if he followed the path he was on. But other memories crept in with them, of seeing his mother’s grief and hearing stories of his grandmother’s unbearable sorrow, and of his own grief when the news camethat his father had died suddenly. The beginning of a terrible discovery that had altered the course of Lionel’s entire life.
“All a mistake,” he said gruffly. “Rather, you mistook it. I was trying to make you comfortable in this household, considering the household you came from. I overstepped once, I admit that, and I regret it because it has done this to you, giving you notions that you would do well to relinquish.”
Her mouth fell open, her expression so anguished, so painful that it took every speck of willpower Lionel possessed to keep looking at her. He could not let her believe there was any untruth in what he was saying, though it was all a lie. Mostly.
Hehadwanted her to have a better life than the one she had endured at her father’s house, yet now he feared he was making this one worse.
She will be hurt for a short while. It is better this way. Do not lose your resolve now.He concentrated on the visions of his family’s most wretched grief, letting it steel him.
“I… do not believe you,” she choked.
