Reaching London, he vowed to marry her no matter what his future entailed, but too late, she had married Jacques Delcour and was lost to Harrison forever.
“Where is this coming from?” she asked wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “You know I can’t marry you. I’ve made that perfectly clear this past year.”
Running his hand through his red hair, he tried to fight against the feeling of defeat that suddenly surrounded him.
For years, he’d tried to forget about her, to move on with his life, but he never could and wasn’t sure that he ever would.
“I want to marry you, Kat. If it was up to me, I would wait a hundred years for you to trust me enough to know that your independence would not be lost as my wife.” He ran his hand down his face. “But I no longer have the luxury of time.”
Her head snapped up, tilting to the side in confusion. “What’s changed? You were perfectly content the way things were before.”
Not perfectly content. He’d longed for more between them other than rushed kisses and secrets. But that was all she was willing to give him. Now he knew it was all she’d ever give him.
“I have to marry. I had hoped to marry you and that you would allow me a small amount of funds to right my accounts, but everything that is yours will remain yours.” He took a step toward Kat, wanting to reassure her of his sincerity and dedication.
She took his hand in her much smaller one. Her touch cool, the longing in his traitorous heart angering him. Harrison held his breath, anticipating her next words. They would either make him the happiest man alive or destroy him completely.
“If it is funds you need, I will happily give them to you.” She squeezed his hand, a bright smile spreading across her gorgeous face.
Relief shined through her eyes and her happy smile carved a hole in his chest. Removing his hand from hers, Harrison took several steps away, needing to clear his mind. It was impossible with her sweet smell of orange blossoms and citrus permeating the air. Harrison could admit that he lost all sense of rational thought when it came to Kat, but perhaps the girl he knew really was long gone.
As he stood there, he realized there was nothing left of the girl he’d once loved. The beauty standing in front of him was Madame Kitty Delcour. Katherine Smith was gone; perhaps he’d lost her for good when he’d left Nottingham all those years ago.
“I don’t want your charity. I want your love, but I see now that it’s something you’re not willing to give. Perhaps I never had it to begin with.” Standing to his full height, Harrison stared at the woman he loved. “Goodbye, Kat.”
“Harrison, wait, don’t leave like this,” she called after him.
He halted with a painful grip on the door handle. Breathing in and out, he took a moment before he released it and faced her. “Marry me?” he asked, no hint of laughter or joy in his voice.
If Kat wanted him to remain by her side, all she had to do was say yes. He didn’t give a damn about her money or saving his blasted family. All he wanted was to know the woman loved him in return.
Tears ran down her cheeks, her head shaking. “I-I can’t.”
He stood there in the middle of her study for what seemed like an eternity before he could move again. Nodding, he looked up, allowing his tears to fall.
For years Harrison had held on to the hope of them, but no more.
No more.
“Then this is truly goodbye.”
He turned and strolled out of the study with a heavy heart. The sound of her tears followed him out the door. Harrison told himself they meant nothing to him, just like he meant nothing to her.
Harrison strolled through the now empty halls of Pleasure House willing his legs to move faster. He ignored the jovial sounds of laughter and dancing that wafted through the doors of the ballroom.
“Hendershot, I was wondering where you were.” The Duke of Richmore, one of Harrison’s closest friends greeted him as he and his wife, Winnie, walked toward the ballroom.
Richmore’s obscenely large body towered over Harrison, who wasn’t short for a man, his friend was oddly massive in both height and proportion.
“Richmore, Your Grace,” Harrison bowed to Winnie.
Winnie had grown up in Nottingham with him and Kat; they were practically brother and sister when they were younger.
She flung a gloved hand at him. “Oh, stop it you. None of this Your Grace nonsense. I’m your closest friend.” Her blonde hair was piled high on her head as blue eyes gleamed in the candlelight.
Richmore pulled his wife closer to his side. “I thought I was his closest friend?” he teased looking down at her with a twinkle in his eye.
A pang of jealousy pierced Harrison, and suddenly he wanted to flee his friends. He was happy for them, but knowing that he’d never have a love like theirs was too painful to witness at that moment.
