“Because I have known love. And I have known loss and hurt and pain,” Owen explained. “My parents loved me, but it was for that reason they died. I try not to blame myself, but every day it remains impossible. It was my own actions that caused me to lose them, the same ones that brought me to my uncle.”
“Owen––”
He forced himself to go on, forcing the words out no matter how much they stung. “He was not a good man. He still isn’t.” He flexed his hands, remembering the punch he landed on the older man’s face. “I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but he never cared for me, and he made sure to show that. I still carry the scars of his words, his fists. I… I feared loving anything after him.”
A gasp escaped her. “I should––”
“Please.” Owen felt the sweat beading on his brow and the pounding of his heart. But he told himself he had to keep going.
The truth had to come out, all of it. Maybe if he bared himself like this, she would finally believe him.
Either way, he knew he couldn’t let her leave him without a fight.
Georgiana pressed her lips together, and he hastily carried on.
“I have always been running away from something, hiding away from the world. The ton has made a mockery of me, and I learned to detest them. Blast it, I even kept Benedict at a distance through our letters. I could have come to visit anytime, but I feared my uncle. I let my fear ruin countless opportunities.
“But I came to London for Benedict because I cared for him. And when he jilted you at the altar, I knew the pain and humiliation you would feel and simply could not allow that. When I made the decision to marry you, Georgiana, I promised myself that I would not embarrass you. That I would not hurt you. No matter how much I feared the past, no matter how I desired to keep us apart, I’ve never meant you any harm.”
“That letter––”
“It was my uncle.”
She gasped.
“I recognized his handwriting, and he admitted to it after I confronted him about it. He knows my past, and somehow he still knows my fears. If only I had been honest with you from the beginning, you might have trusted me. You might have come to me first so that we could talk about this instead of running to and fro. It was all my fault.”
“Owen, I––”
He took her outstretched hands and squeezed them. “My life has been bleak and painful at times, but nothing compares to the pain I felt when I saw you cry. I never wanted that to happen. You must understand how much of that letter is a lie, Georgiana.”
“I’m trying to––”
“Even if you cannot believe me or trust me now, give me another chance. You must. I need this, I need you. You are my wife. Only the thought of you made me realize how long I have lived in a bleak winter. But you’ve brought me spring. You’ve made my life beautiful. It’s because of you I can see the good in the world around me. In people, too—in myself.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but he continued nonetheless, praying she would understand.
“There is no other woman, Georgiana. It is only you,” Owen spoke urgently, desperate for her to trust him. His voice cracked, but he didn’t hide the pain from her. “It has only ever been you. Since the day we married, my heart has been yours. I just didn’t know that until now. I love you.”
“Oh!” Georgiana clapped a hand over her mouth, but her tears kept falling. “You odious man! This is when you tell me?”
He blinked, uncertain of what she meant. “I––”
His grip on her hands loosened enough, so she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck. It happened so quickly, so smoothly, that Owen only saw the kiss coming right before their lips touched. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Georgiana was soft against him. Soft and warm and eager.
Thoughts spilled free of his mind when they pulled apart for breath. He felt the spark between them. Something had just happened, but he stared at her in amazement, wondering if this was somehow all in his imagination.
“I love you, too,” Georgiana breathed.
The words made his heart stop. Owen couldn’t recall the last time anyone had said that to him. He wondered if he’d just imagined it. But the passionate look on his wife’s face told him she meant what she said.
He blinked. “You do?”
“Yes! And if you had let me get a word in edgewise, I might have said it earlier,” she teased before growing serious. Her eyes searched his. “Thank you for your honesty, Owen. It means everything to me. I had questions I wanted to ask you. All of which you have answered here.”
“Oh. Ah. Well…” Owen couldn’t think of anything more to say to that. He was still stunned by her confession.
She sniffed, a stray tear rolling down her cheek. He lifted his hand, brushing her tear away with his thumb, then he cradled her cheek.