“Yes, yes,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed genuine and yet unsure. “Of course, I would not wish to stop you. I have no intention of stopping you from your journey, Victoria.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, surprised. Though it was preposterous, she felt a hint of disappointment. Surely, she had not secretly hoped he would come and take her into his arms, begging her to stay?
Of course not.
And he wasn’t going to. So it was a good thing she had not dreamed about such a thing.
He stared down at her, something very different about him than before. “Are you well? Is the…is the babe well?”
She was stunned by the question, though she knew she should not have been. Her husband had always been a kind man. That’s all it was. His general kindness. “I am quite well, thank you. After all, I am not sick. I am simply—”
“Making an entire person,” he pointed out gently. “And I must insist you take care.”
The depth of emotion in his voice couldn’t possibly be correct. Not after their last exchange. And so she cleared her throat and said, blinking with more rapidity than she liked, “We are both very well, thank you. Now what the blazes is this all about?”
“I have been doing a great deal this last weeks since we have seen each other, and it seems so have you.” His gaze traveled to the drive where footmen were still working to make certain everything was secured safely. “I’m surprised by the speed at which you have been able to get yourself together to make departure.”
“Are you?” she asked.
He let out a rueful laugh. “No, not truly,” he admitted. “I know you too well to deceive myself on such a point.” He smiled at her then, and she could have sworn it was approval that shone his eyes. “You’re capable of doing anything you put your mind to, Victory. I love that about you. But there is something that I should like to give you before you go.”
“Give me?” she queried, shifting on her black kid boots. It was a tactic she had not expected, and she felt a tug of unease.
Catharine stepped away a little bit, giving them a moment’s privacy as she loudly hummed and stepped out to examine the coach.
“Will you come and see what I have secured for you?” he asked with shocking but humble enthusiasm.
She longed to give in, but surely, she could not. She gestured to the waiting coach. “But we are to go.”
He nodded and held out conciliatory hands. “I understand, but I promise it could be fortuitous for you.”
She arched a brow. “If it is a building, I do not need to see it. I have no use for it now,” she warned. “That was only a temporary bandage over a dream I thought I could not pursue. London shall have to do with the British Museum. God help England and all its scholars.”
“It’s not a building,” he said softly.
“No?”
He shook his head, his dark hair teasing his hard jaw. “Will you come?” he asked as he extended his hand, a hand she loved so well.
“What about Catharine?” she said, her voice hitching ever so slightly. The sight of him hurt. For his beautiful face was the picture of what could have been.
“Catharine may come,” he replied easily. “As a matter of fact, the gift will be good for her as well.”
She stared at her husband, trying to discern his purpose. Now she was truly confused. Did he wish to seek forgiveness? Or did he merely hope to send her off without animosity between them? How she wished that could be so. Even if they couldn’t be together.
She did not wish to leave feeling as if there was a hole where her heart should be.
“Of course,” she agreed.
Gently, he touched her arm, whether he realized it or not, and carefully walked with her outside.
He smiled at Catharine, and though there was that intensity about him, he did not seem to be as racked with shame as he had been the last time she saw him.
He looked lighter, which only increased his beauty. Drat the man.
With care, he took her hand and assisted her into the coach.
The gloved touch between them sent a pulse up her arm, reminding her of the hours of joy she’d spent in his arms.