“Syd, do you want this, too?”
“Do I want us to be together forever?” She nodded. “I want this probably more than you. I am just so awful at showing it.”
“Because you have always been disappointed when giving anyone– meaning your parents– your love. Now, you are struggling with giving your heart to me and having it crushed. Your fear will fade with time. It will fade,” he insisted. “All you have to do is make our marriage real. Commit to me, Syd.”
She dared not.
It still felt as though she was jumping into dark waters.
Dangerous waters where she might drown.
To give him her love, to accept this happiness, and then have it all cruelly taken from her…she would never recover from losing Octavian.
Octavian sighed and drew her into his arms when she buried her face in her hands to avoid his gaze. “I need more time, Octavian.”
“All right, love.”
But how much longer would he wait?
Did he mean it when he said forever?
Adela and Marigold had made happy marriages. They were in love with their husbands and completely committed to them, yet still maintained their own desires, hopes, and dreams. Neither of them, as far as she knew, ever walked around in fear of their marriage suddenly falling apart. They trusted their husbands and adored them.
She certainly felt the same way about Octavian.
Had she not always said she trusted him more than she trusted herself? No man was ever more worthy of her adoration. “Thank you for being so understanding, Octavian.”
“I have no choice, Syd.”
She lifted her head and turned to him. “What do you mean? Our marriage can still be annulled. You know I will not fight you if you decide to walk away.”
“My heart will never allow me to walk away from you. How many times must I say it before you will believe me? I do not want to spend my life without you. So, you see. It is not about your taking the choice from me. I have already taken it away from myself.”
“And you are waiting for me to do the same for myself.”
He nodded. “You are the bravest girl I have ever met, Syd. Find the courage to make our marriage permanent and unbreakable.”
She said nothing, now eager to see her friends when she returned to London and confide in them. They would help her find the courage to do what she already knew was the right step for her.
Octavian was convinced it was the right step for him, too.
She hated these doubts that were holding her back.
Octavian regarded her thoughtfully.
“Never mind,” she said. “Let’s prepare for Lady Lennox’s dinner party. Which gown should I wear?” She left his side and crossed the small room to open the armoire and draw out her two evening gowns. She held them up against herself for his perusal. “The lilac or the rose?”
“The rose. It picks up the color in your cheeks.”
“So, you don’t like the lilac?”
He chuckled. “I like them both. But the lilac shows a little too much of your bosom, and I would rather not share yourassetswith others.”
“It is modest by London standards of fashion. And I always wear it with a fichu, anyway.”
“Then wear the lilac, but I prefer the rose.”
“The rose, it is.” She set about preparing for the evening.
