For a few seconds she remained silent. “Perhaps a tiny bit.” She faced him. “I wanted to give you the same pleasure, and I think that if I had continued you could have—”
“Do shut up. It’s hopeless.” Finn held up a hand. In the candlelight, despair clouded his eyes. “This, you and I, was a rubbish idea.” He efficiently re-pinned his towel and then methodically set his clothing to rights, but he wouldn’t look at her. Angry red color had seeped above his collar and highlighted his cheekbones. By increments, he withdrew into himself, putting up an invisible barrier between them, much like he’d done at their first meeting. “Go back to the drawing room and finish the musicale.”
“I’d like to stay with you, perhaps talk—”
“No!” Anger propelled the word into the darkened air. “There is nothing to say except I’m a failure at even the basest of carnal functions. I couldn’t do what was expected of me, couldn’t feel anything.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a heavy swallow. “Return to the drawing room… please. I’ll wait here for a while before calling for my carriage. No one will know we’ve been together.” His tone was flat, a monotone, devoid of all the personality and life he’d had at the start of the evening.
Why can’t you understand I merely wish to be with you, regardless?“But Finn—”
“Damn it, Jane, don’t make this worse than it already is. I couldn’t maintain an erection, couldn’t couple with you, so what else is there for me during intimacy?” He avoided her gaze, but the loathing and despondency in his voice tugged at her heart. “We should never have come here, tried—”
“Don’t be an arse. It was only a first attempt. These things don’t always go off perfectly, even in the best of circumstances.” Annoyance bled into her tones, for he couldn’t quit after a failure. “Next time we’ll try something else.” Panic pinged through her chest. Was this the end of their relationship?
“Are you that daft?” Finally, he dragged his gaze to hers. The darkness in his eyes was a clear indication of his already being lost from her. “Another time will yield the same results.” He waved a hand. “Find Ballantrae. At least he’s deserving of you, and he has a working prick.”
Tears stung her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand that she didn’t want anyone else except him, regardless of the obstacles? “Finn, listen to me—”
“Go.” His chin trembled, but he swallowed, obviously struggling to conquer the emotions that battered him. “You and I are done, my lady.” He turned his chair away from her. “I’m sorry.”
“Finn, please…”
“Damn it, go!” The command echoed through the silent room.
She had no recourse except to cross the room, retrieving her gloves while she went as moisture welled in her eyes. At the door, Jane glanced over her shoulder. He had his hands pressed to his ears as if attempting to block out noise where there was none, at least none she could hear. “This isn’t our last meeting, Phineas Storme,” she whispered as she fumbled with the key in the lock. A quick wrench of the latch, a tug on the panel swung it open, and she darted through the opened space.
Once into the empty corridor, she pressed the heel of a hand against her mouth to stifle the sob that welled in her throat. How had things gone so terribly wrong when there’d been such promise in the evening?