“Of course.” She stared at the broad width of his shoulders as he filled his plate. Why should he worry about rushing back to his wife? Also, this way, he wouldn’t ask her to accompany him. There was so much she wished to say, but from his taut posture and clenched jaw, he wouldn’t receive it well.
When he’d brought his plate to the table and took a seat opposite her, she sighed. They wouldn’t return to the intimacy they’d had yesterday, and she mourned that closeness. “I expect to remain in London for several days.” Then he tucked into his food as if nothing had occurred to drive a wedge between them.
“And upon your return? What then?”
“What do you mean?” He glanced at her from over the rim of his coffee cup.
She put her own cup down. “Will you run away whenever you begin to feel good about your life, when peace is in your grasp?” For that was exactly what was happening. He was floundering in a morass of emotion, and she suspected he didn’t want the lighter ones to win.
“I don’t run.” He followed the statement by shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
“You do, and you’re doing it now.” She despised the waver in her voice. “Your brother is a grown man, and your mother is there too. Until he makes peace with his own demons, there’s nothing you can do.”
The earl narrowed his eyes. “Are you an expert on human nature or the mind?” He threw his fork onto his plate, scattering food onto the highly shined tabletop. “You were a damned governess. I doubt you have the education needed here.”
“Why am I not surprised you’ve resorted to belittling me?” A shaft of hot ire stabbed through her chest. None of it was fair, but with this attitude, he wouldn’t listen anyway. “I don’t deserve that, and I won’t stand for it.”
“And neither will I sit here and let you dictate to me how much better adjusted to life you are than the Storme brothers.” He stood so abruptly, his chair slid over the floor and crashed against the wall. “It’s becoming quite off-putting.”
“Fair point.” Sarah nodded. “However, I do speak from some experience, because I almost lost myself to grief and anger after my parents died. That’s the root problem here you’re struggling with.” For long moments she stared at her empty plate. His anger was palpable in the air, and that caused her own mood to sink. Then she said, “Why are you really taking this trip?”
He huffed. “We’ve been over this.”
“Are you afraid Finn will die knowing how much of an arse you are, or do you wish to order him about, shame him into doing what you want as your father did to you?”
“How can you know that?” He gawked. When she merely lifted an eyebrow, he continued. “How can I not? He’s my responsibility. My father’s last words were to look after my brothers.”
“I understand that, but you can’t live their lives, and you certainly won’t convince anyone to change their path unless you’re walking a new one.”
His ire lessened and a trace of fear scudded through his eyes. “I have to be there… so they will love and respect me, so my family will know I care, even though I haven’t been able to say it…”
The poor man was nearing another breaking point. She wanted to hold him, to tell him it would hurt to set the feelings free, but it would prove worth it, yet she didn’t move. “They do love you, but you’ll never see that until you love yourself.”
“Gah.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “What gammon.”
“Is it? You and I won’t have a true relationship unless to accept yourself, flaws and all, and then forgive not only you but your brothers, your father.” She blinked back the tears in her eyes. “It breaks my heart to see you struggle…”
A muscle in his cheek ticked, but he said nothing.
“You needn’t if you’d stop carrying it all.” Sarah shrugged and rose to her feet. “When will you realize that you’re worthy of love regardless of what’s happened, Andrew? That you’re as entitled as anyone else to a good life, a life where you let someone care for you, where you need only worry about yourself?”
For long moments, he glared at her. Then his expression softened briefly before he worked his jaw and shoved a hand through his hair. “Because… I don’t love myself. You were right in that regard. How can I when I’m a veritable powder keg in human form?” His eyes implored her for help, but she didn’t know how, for she was numb from his reversion. She’d given him all the tools; she couldn’t do the work for him. “Like you said, acceptance starts with me, and even in this I’ve failed: me, you—us.”
Tears prickled the backs of her eyelids. She could only imagine the struggle he battled with. “But that’s the glory of it all. You can always start again with more determination and experience.” She came around the table toward him with a hand extended. “Love yourself as you are, knowing you can eventually conquer your demons, else your relationships with everyone else will fail as well.”
Confusion roiled in his stormy eyes. For one second, she thought he might take her hand, but then he shook his head. “Damn you, Sarah. Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve distracted me, from… everything.”
Another truth, but this one warmed her heart. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She allowed herself a tiny smile. If he would only let himself have that breakthrough.
“I… you.” Anger mixed with confusion on his face. “I’m sorry.” The whisper sounded torn from a tight throat. With his fingers clutching at his chest, he fled the morning room.
“Oh, Andrew. Let go and see how wonderful life can be if you’d just open your eyes to what’s standing in front of you,” she said to the empty space where he’d previously stood. A few tears fell to her cheeks. She’d become a watering pot in the last few days, which was odd, for she’d never been given over to wandering emotions until she’d met him.
*
July 15, 1817
Drew rubbed ahand over his face and glowered into his loaded breakfast plate. Even at half past ten, his stomach still churned though his appetite had fled. Had it only been four days since he’d eaten much the same fare with Sarah?