Yes, she knew now that he cared for her. She found it in herself to wish he didn’t care quite so much, even while her heart opened to every ardent declaration.
“I don’t want anything from you,” she said sadly.
“Except your freedom.”
“Yes,” she said, drawing on the core of steel that had helped her survive as Soraya.
“I can say nothing to change your mind?” he whispered despairingly.
“Nothing,” she confirmed in a husky voice. Then, summoning every shred of her courage, she looked directly at him. “Don’t bid me a decorous farewell outside. I…I couldn’t bear it. Let’s finish everything here. Good-bye, Your Grace.”
His eyes darkened to navy as he registered her use of his title. But she was determined to remind him of the gulf that gaped between them, a gulf nothing as fragile as love could ever cross.
She watched acceptance seep into his features, along with a deathly bleakness that made her stomach cramp with wretchedness. He bowed his head in her direction but mercifully didn’t touch her.
She’d been brave enough to kiss him farewell back in Kensington. She couldn’t kiss him now. If she did, she’d shatter beyond repair.
She took one last, longing look at him. Good-bye, my love.
“Good-bye, Verity,” he said softly, then turned back to the window as if he couldn’t bear to watch her walk away.
Chapter 24
“Verity lass, will you tell me what happened?” Ben asked softly from beside her on the curricle’s padded bench.
What had happened? Nothing out of the ordinary. She’d fallen in love, that was all.
Hardly worth the fuss she made, she thought, staring dry-eyed into the woods they passed in their hired carriage.
“Verity?” her brother prompted. They’d traveled for several hours, and he hadn’t pressed her for details. She appreciated his consideration, but even Ben’s patient silence couldn’t last forever.
“I…I promise I’ll tell you everything.” A lie. She could never tell him everything that had happened in Kylemore’s hidden Highland valley. But she could say enough to make Ben understand, she hoped. She turned to face the brother who’d endured so much for her sake. “Just not now.”
They were the first words she’d spoken in over an hour, since Ben had leaned down to broach the basket the butler at Kylemore Castle had pressed upon them. She’d refused to share the lavish provisions.
The idea of food still sent nausea coiling through the leaden sorrow in her belly. A logical part of her mind knew that one day she’d talk and laugh and eat and sleep and act like a real person again, but her grieving core as yet couldn’t believe it.
“Just tell me one thing.” Ben’s massive hands were white-knuckled on the reins, and he stared with a rigid jaw at their horses. “Did he hurt you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
She fumbled desperately for the gray mist of apathy that had gripped her since she’d left her lover, but its protective edges became more ragged with every moment that passed.
“Lord in heaven!” Ben wrenched their vehicle to a shuddering halt and whirled to face her. “I’ll lay charges against him at the first town we come to. I care nowt that he’s a sodding duke. If he hurt you, he’ll pay for it, lass.”
His rage scorched away the last of her numbness. A massive wave of agony rushed into her soul. She dragged in an unsteady breath.
“No, you don’t understand, Ben.” Then she spoke aloud the truth she’d repudiated for so long. “I love him.”
“Love? What damned twaddle is…”
Even in her misery, she saw Ben’s fury fade into angry bewilderment, into denial. Then his expression became ineffably sad. He knew her so well, this brother who had given up his own hopes and ambitions—and, yes, pride in his manhood—to watch over her.
He knew just what this unwelcome love would cost her. Had already cost her.
“Oh, lass, I’m that sorry.”
Yes, he knew indeed. She managed a shaky smile. “I am too.” She reached out and took his hand where it held the reins across his knees. “But least said, soonest mended.”