‘You really think he’d be able to stick to his vows? A man like that?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘But one thing I have learned is that not all men are like our father. Some men do truly fall in love with their wives. And cherish them. You only have to look at the way Blanchards is with Gussie. Or consider how happy Harriet is with Graveney. And she always swore she wouldn’t marry, either.’
‘Either?’
‘That’s right, Justin. I swore I wouldn’t end up like Mama, chained to a man who treated me with less consideration than his horse or his hounds. In fact—’ she gave him a straight look ‘—I’ve come to the conclusion it would be much better to be a man’s mistress than his wife. And only stay with him as long as he treated me well.’
‘No, it wouldn’t! Look...’ He struggled with himself, as though determined to keep his temper in check. ‘I suppose I can understand your aversion to marriage. I have my own reservations, after all. Because of Father. I am his son and I would never be sure...’ He grimaced.
‘You are not a bit like Papa, Justin. Not in that way.’ She stretched out her hand and laid it, briefly, against his gaunt cheek. ‘You wouldn’t treat Mary badly. You are not that kind of man. So marrying her wouldn’t be a disaster. Thank you, Justin.’
‘What for?’ He eyed her with misgiving.
‘For helping me to reach a decision.’
‘I don’t like the look in your eye. Dear lord, you’ve never looked more like your twin when he was plotting some mischief.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.’
‘I know. But you see, when I came here, I didn’t know what to do about Tom. And now I do.’
‘You agree to leave him? And return to Antwerp?’
‘No. I’m not ready to leave him. I love him, you see.’ To soften the blow, she bent to kiss his cheek.
‘He cannot marry you without my permission,’ growled Justin. ‘As his commanding officer.’
‘He may not want to. As you’ve taken such pains to point out, marriage isn’t for every man.’ She stuffed her handkerchief back into her reticule. ‘So I shall ask if I can stay with him, on terms he can accept.’
‘As his mistress, do you mean? Sarah, you cannot possibly—’
‘Well, I’m probably, sort of, his mistress already,’ she mused. ‘I was certainly ruined the moment his men laid him in my bed, in the eyes of society. And I’ve been with him for a whole week since then.’
He drew a rasping breath with which to voice a protest.
‘I don’t think we should discuss this any more,’ she cut in. ‘I don’t wish to make you unwell. And your face is going a most unhealthy shade of puce.’
‘Is that surprising? At least Major Bartlett had the decency to propose. Whereas you—’
‘I was rash enough to turn him down. I was afraid of marriage then. And worried he wasn’t offering because he loved me, but out of guilt.’
‘That makes no difference. At least he didn’t attempt to get away with sullying your reputation without offering to pay the penalty.’
‘Interesting to hear you think of marriage as the price you have to pay for getting a woman into bed. Is that why Mary has left you?’
‘We are not talking of me, but of you and that b—Bartlett!’
‘We aren’t talking about anything, any longer,’ she said serenely, getting to her feet. ‘Or I shall be late for church.’
* * *
She had been worried about going to church, but she now felt as though she could use a period of reflection before returning to Tom. Her conversation with Justin had made her look at certain aspects of her past in a new light and she wanted to mull over them before dealing with her future.
It hadn’t been until Justin had challenged her behaviour, and her motive for coming to Brussels, that she’d seen that while Gideon had lived, she really had behaved like a sort of modern-day Rapunzel, locked up in a tower. A tower that was entirely of her own making. She’d seized on the story their nurse had spun, about how she and Gideon were but one soul, inhabiting two bodies, and used it as an excuse for not struggling to break free of the strictures her parents had placed on her, because she was merely a girl. It hadn’t seemed worth the bother of enduring a scene, such as the ones Harriet had caused when she came back from school, to get her own way, when she could tell herself that in some sort of mystical way, she wa
s sharing Gideon’s adventures so long as he told her about them.