Just tell him the truth, her traitorous inner voice counseled in desperation.
No, she whispered back.
“I cannot marry you.”
An array of emotions passed over his face before a blank mask cleared away all expression. But she’d seen enough. Hurt. Disappointment. Betrayal. Desperation. And then calm. It was painful to watch and she ached all the more for it.
I love you, too.
He leaned forward, attempting to hide the slight tremble of his hands. “You need protection, Belle. Your brothers aren’t here and you have a madman on your tail that wants to kill you. I will be able to protect you better if you are my wife.”
Belle shivered at the word “wife.”
It would not be difficult to imagine being his wife. In fact, it was rather easy. Too easy. She must make him grasp the finality of her decision.
Belle shook her head, her eyes pleading him to understand. “Marriage will only put you in more danger. I cannot allow that. I can take care of myself.”
He scoffed, but said, “If you marry me you won’t have to. I’ll share your burden and protect you in all ways and in all things.”
“Simon—”
“If you are worried I’ll dictate your life, don’t be. It is not my wish to change who you are. We will be equals, partners in marriage.”
Belle believed him. It sounded like heaven, in fact, which made it all the more painful to let go. If there were ever a man to pick for her husband, even before this mess with De Roux, she’d have picked him. And she’d have loved him until the end.
“You don’t understand, perhaps you never will. Icannotmarry you, Simon.”
He settled back in his seat, his eyes fathomless as he regarded her. The stubborn set of his jaw was the only sign of his unyielding resolve. “Why do you run away from me, from us? I’ll not believe you do not feel the same connection I do.”
Arms settling over her chest, she tilted her chin upward. “There are some things even I cannot change, no matter how much I may wish to.”
“A more stubborn woman I’ve yet to meet. You. Love. Me.” Leaning forward, his gaze lit with truth, he dared her to deny it. “And I am hopelessly in love with you.”
At her small gasp, he continued. “I’ve told myself your denial does not matter, but it pains me, truly pains me. I want your heart. I want to hear you say the words. But even if that never occurs, I still want you safe.”
At a loss for words, her heart still hammering at his declaration, Belle could only stare at him, wide-eyed.
“I will not let anything happen to you. Even if it means you shall hate me, you shall at least be alive to do so.”
Belle closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Does Jo know what you’ve done?” she asked.
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I wager if she hasn’t yet, she will learn of it soon enough.”
Belle looked away. That provided no comfort, not even a slither of hope. They would never reach her in time, should they even attempt to rescue her from this madness.
No matter, she’d remove herself from his misguided clutches. Having survived death twice now, she figured she’d manage to outmaneuver an earl.
Belle snuck a peak at Simon, quickly averting her gaze when she found him staring at her with a sad droop in the set of his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.
She admitted to herself that she never could quite catch her breath every time she looked at him. There was something about him, something that made her want to throw caution to the wind and embrace the life she never imagined she’d have.
But he was an earl, and an earl required an heir. He might overlook her barrenness now, in the face of danger and in the bright eyes of love, but when the danger passed, when love settled into a less-passionate thing, all that would remain was the truth of what he’d sacrificed in a moment of passion.
He’d have no sons or daughters of his own. Never hear the laughter of children in his home. Never have anyone to carry on his title or to dote on him in his old age. Sheknewwhat that future felt like and she could spare him that. If she gave into him now, he’d only ever have her, then regret, and, eventually, resentment. And that—that she could not bear.
Better to love him only from afar, better to see him truly happy someday when he moved on from her, then to have him grow to hate her and their life together.
Resolved, she turned her attention to his plan, which had a few holes in it. Such as her aunt. She would never find the note. Her maid would, and she’d destroy it, knowing that if her mistress had eloped, Belle would have at the very least informed her. Since her maid was aware of her persona of Madam De La Frey, she knew to be discreet in any matters involving Belle.
“We are getting married. That is the end of it,” Simon said as if he could hear her thoughts.
Belle did not glance his way but continued to stare out of the window.
“We shall see about that,” she replied, her whisper barely audible.
