“I never wanted you near something like that. I never wanted you to be hurt by it.”
“Can you not feel me? I am whole. I am sound.” She forced him to look into her eyes. “I am not hurt.”
George’s body trembled as if he’d fallen into a frozen lake.
“George,” she said in a voice as quiet as the wind, “I am here for you.”
His gaze whipped to hers, cleared of grief and sorrow. “You were scared.”
“No. I swear it. Only for your safety and never for my own. Do you know, I crept after you? I thought I could help, but when I saw you with Neville… And when I saw the knife. I would have mourned like a true widow had something happened to you. If I had entered that room and distracted you, had that knife plunged between your ribs… your worry for me could create danger for yourself.” She lifted her chin to an angle made of pure pride. “So, I did not rush in where I was not needed. So that I could be here for you now, when Iamneeded.”
She’d followed him.She’d followed him. She’d almost walked directly into a hellish nightmare. He choked, unable to breathe, molten bile rising into his chest, his throat.
Her arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m well, George. I’m well. Look at me.”
He did, and her eyes were clear as a sunny morning sky, though dark as a deeply brewed cup of tea. He dropped his forehead to hers, feeling her skin warm against her own. Evidence she was as she said she was—well.
But for how long?
He lifted his head away from hers. “I… I cannot marry.”
She pulled her hands into her lap. “I may be slow from lack of sleep. I do not understand. What do you mean, you cannot marry?”
“It is in your best interest. You must return to Whitwood. I will remain here.” As he always had. “And continue to look after my uncle.” As he always had.
She lifted a hand to his face, traced her fingers down his cheek. “You’re scared. Let sleep calm you. You’ll see all is well in the morning’s light.”
“I will always want to be with you, Jane.” He twined their fingers together, feeling the truth of his words in his gut. “But I cannot.”
“I know tonight was”—she shook her head, opening and closing her mouth—“I do not have the words, and I can feel the fear rolling off you in waves, but George, at Whitwood, you seemed… you seemed determined to face your fears based on only a thread of hope. Mere hours ago, as well. And now you are not. Help me understand.”
He rested his forehead against her. “It wasn’t just hope, Jane. It was love.” He said the word, knowing what it would do to her, knowing he forced her to face her fear, as he had faced his own this night. “I love you enough to brave it. But then… we were so far from the danger that hope grew more quickly than I would have allowed it to otherwise.”
“And now?”
“You must leave.” Surely, she wanted to, now that she knew the truth—he loved her. “And we should not see each other again.”
Even in the shadows, he could see the blood drain from her face. “A long engagement. You’ve mentioned it once before.”
“No. What would we be waiting for, Jane? For my uncle to heal? Ha! Unlikely. I know that now. Then if not that, we are waiting for my uncle to breathe his last. And I’ll not base my hopes of marriage on hopes for death.” And no matter his uncle’s terrors, and George’s own, he could not wish for the man’s death. Hewouldnot.
She nodded, her face blank, and rolled off the bed and to her feet. “Can you hook my gown?” She turned her back to him.
He did as she asked, his fingers numb from the ice-wrecked lake that drowned him.
When he’d done, she asked quietly, her back still to him, “Will you call a coach for me? I think it’s time I returned to the Clarkes.”
He did as she asked once more, escorted her outside, and helped her up into the waiting conveyance. She hesitated, one foot on the step and the other settled next to his on the ground. Their legs brushed against one another, and George fisted his hands so he would not grab her.
“You are scared,” she said.
He could not deny it. He looked down the dark street.
“I was too. I think we are scared of the same thing in a way.”
Curiosity tilted his gaze toward her.
“The myriad ways love can hurt. Scared of the dangers of love.” She put her other foot on the ground and went on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her face to his. Her strong hands caressed his face and neck into a perfect position to see directly into her clear, warm gaze. “You challenged me to follow you to London. I did. And I will never regret my choice. I wonder if you will regret yours.”
