She froze, searching his face. “Then, you... didn’t come to apologize for being part of the kidnapping?”
His brows drew together. “What do you mean?” Then his shoulders went rigid. “You don’t think I helped kidnap you?” When she said nothing, he cursed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Of course this would be what you imagined.”
“I don’t mean to accuse you...” Louisa felt wretched for a variety of reasons. All the melancholy she’d experienced in the kitchen came rushing back. “Honestly, I do not know what to imagine.” In her heart, she wanted to launch herself into his arms, hold him tight, and forget about the world. If only all the uncertainties that came with the past, present, and future hadn’t coiled around her heart like venomous vipers.
“I didn’t.” His fingers gripped the box in his hand, knuckles whitening. “I had no part in what happened to you back then. I...” His voice trailed off.
An impression of familiarity suddenly filled Louisa, and as she observed the duke, the image of a young man she’d been thinking of so often lately swam across her mind, overlapping with his.
She nearly gasped.
Good God.
Could it be?
“But you were there,” she said slowly, now almost certain that she was right. “You’re the young man from my dreams...” She lowered her gaze, attempting to grab hold of the memory she’d once believed only a dream that would always stubbornly leave the moment she tried to grasp at it. Her protector in the shadows.
“Yes,” he said simply, solemnly.
Her gaze shot up to meet his again, her heart racing. Her throat tightened, and she held her breath, waiting for his next words.
“I am the one who let you go.”
The breath left her lungs in a rush. Let her go? He made it sound so simple, so insignificant. His eyes, however, held unfathomable gloominess—like a man walking to the gallows. Let her go?
No.
He hadn’t merelylether go. He hadsavedher.
Those coiled vipers, the chaos, her heart, finally settled.
“You rescued me, Oliver,” Louisa said, her voice quiet but firm. “You took me from that place and handed me over to my father’s men.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t hand you over. Not directly.”
Indeed, had her father known that the son of his enemy had aided him, the course of events might have taken a rather different turn. Although, knowing her father, perhaps not. However, the important thing here was that Oliver had saved her from that nightmare. No wonder she had always felt safe with him, despite their families being at odds. She had trusted him implicitly. At first, she had thought it was because she didn’t give any credence to the feud between the families, but now... she knew that was not the case.
He’d saved her.
She had been dreaming about him for ten years.
“You still saved me.”
He merely stared at her, unblinking.
“Are you not going to say anything?” Louisa pressed. “It’s a pleasure, Louisa—”
“Your father must have been livid after I left.”
Ah, her impossibly handsome, inscrutable duke. “My father was beyond furious, and I took quite the verbal beating for defying him, but I could not condone what he had done. This might be ten years too late, but thank you for defying your own father back then.”
“You do not hate me?” he asked softly.
Louisa blinked at the man. “Why would I hate the man who helped me?”Oh.“If this is because of what my father said about blood, I do not share his view.”
He let out a visible breath. “That is a relief.” The gloominess left his gaze. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
Silly man, I could never hate you. I love you.
