For Robert, the day was interminable. He wasn’t going to be like Audrey’s puppy, trying to follow her around, but he ate meals with her, and in between walked the grounds he’d come to enjoy. The management of Rose Cottage and the larger estate had helped him come to grips with the management of his earldom, and he would always have fond thoughts of it. He’d hoped it might even become Audrey’s dower property again when they married.
As the evening approached, and his presence in a feminine household risked scandalizing her neighbors, he realized she was just waiting him out, as if to see if he’d leave—or show himself as a man who’d risk a woman’s reputation to have what he wanted. But he wouldn’t do that, for those would only be the tactics of his father, and Robert didn’t have to be him. Loving her had taught him that.
But maybe Audrey didn’t know that.
After dinner, he found her alone in the drawing room, crocheting slowly, her expression one of concentration as she used her nimble fingers to count the stitches she’d already made. He imagined Blythe had retired early to bed after a day warily watching the two of them.
Audrey tilted her head toward the door.
“It’s me,” Robert said. “I’m leaving, but I’d like to talk to you before I do.”
“I can’t stop you.”
He deserved that. He stepped inside, closed the door, then crossed to sit beside her on the sofa. At least she didn’t stiffen, only continued to crochet.
“Ever since I became the earl, I’ve spent years trying to be different from my father.”
“I know this.”
“You don’t know why. Just as you didn’t want to talk about your baby, I didn’t want to talk about another death, one that happened before I even bought my commission.”
“You’ve told me about your brother, and I had already heard about your business partner who took his own life.”
Robert stared at her. “So you knew something about my past, and didn’t ask me about it, didn’t speak up.”
She lowered her crocheting. “It’s not the same thing. Your actions after you learned about my baby’s death are what I am most disappointed in.”
“Then you can be disappointed even more when I tell you that I was so determined to get in early on the initial railway investments, that I manipulated Stephen Kepple. I wanted his participation, even though others told me he wasn’t strong enough for the risky investment I’d proposed. So I befriended him, got him to invest, and the deal went bad. Everyone lost money. And Kepple killed himself. I’ll never know if he realized he’d been manipulated into joining, or if he regretted how much money he’d invested. And then I knew that I was a bully, just like my father.”
“A bully,” she echoed.
He could hear the bitterness in her voice, but he put aside the pain of that. “I bought a commission the next day, determined to be the kind of man I’d once idolized, the retired army officer who lived near Knightsbridge Hall. He was the only man who’d ever stood up to my father, regardless of the difference in their stations. Following orders, being in command, all these things helped change me into a man who understood being part of a regiment, and not just out to do whatever I thought best.”
“Then what happened when you met me?” she demanded.
“You wanted my help, and I was grateful to offer it. And once I knew you, I fell in love, yet I still hurt you. A man wants to be depended upon, to protect and cherish his wife—surely that can’t be all bad. Or that’s what I told myself. It was far easier to think that than to admit that it was all about me and how I couldn’t live without you.”
Audrey drew in a sharp breath but said nothing.
“I started out trying to rescue you, to appease my guilt, but I think your love rescued me.”
She held up a hand. “Robert?—”
“Let me finish. I never could have done the things you have, left my family to begin anew, when Society doesn’t encourage women to form households. I never thought of a woman beingcourageous until I met you. I’ve seen men in combat, but you’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.”
She bit her lip, her eyes downcast, and didn’t respond.
“That’s all I wanted to say.” He stood up. “Think about our future, Audrey. Don’t give up on me, on us. I love you.”
And he walked out the door into a misty rain. He’d said all he could—now it was up to Audrey and the powerful love he hoped she bore him.
Audrey sat still,at war with herself. Part of her wanted to call him back, and the other part was relieved he was gone, so she wouldn’t have to listen to his painful words, to risk being drawn back in against her will.
He’d tried to change himself, as had she. Neither of them had been perfect at it. But could she honestly trust him enough to put herself in his hands, to be vulnerable?
“I need to speak with you,” Blythe said from the doorway.
Audrey sighed. “Doesn’t everyone? Were you eavesdropping?”
