Heaving a sigh, she let herself into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. A fire glowed in the hearth and she went to it, peeling off her gloves and holding out hands that seemed strangely chilled for the warmth of the summer night. It was silly, truly, to mourn his desertion. She had wanted him to understand why she had refused him. He had a right to know why she could not have a life with him.
Her heart broke at the thought that he could not even be in the same room—nay, the same house—with her.
Just then a beloved, familiar voice broke into her morose thoughts.
“I was beginning to think Phoebe wouldn’t be able to convince you to retire. I shouldn’t have doubted her.”
Chapter 23
Clara gasped and spun around to face the dim room. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, surely; her great longing to have Quincy with her creating him out of thin air.
But no, there he was, seated in a chair in the deepest shadows. As she stared, stunned, he rose and came toward her.
He had removed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat, and had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A small smile played about his chiseled lips, his dark eyes fastened on her, more emotions than she could name filling their depths.
But there was a caution about him, too. As if he feared she would bolt at the slightest trigger. He stopped several feet from her. “Clara.”
His voice was low and deep and utterly wonderful. She ached to close her eyes and let it rumble through her. But she wouldn’t. There was still no hope for them, no chance for a future. Only now he must see it, too. Something that should not have brought her as much pain as it did.
She drew in an unsteady breath, fighting for composure though all she wanted to do was crumple to the floor and cry. “Where have you been?” she asked, her quiet voice nevertheless loud in the stillness of the room. She clasped her hands tightly before her to keep from reaching out for him.
“Swallowhill.”
The single word startled her. “Swallowhill?” At his nod she asked, “All day?”
“No.” A sad smile flitted about his lips, there and gone with the same swiftness as the birds the house had been named for. “I had…things to see to. In town.”
She nodded, though she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. They stared at each other for a time, a horrible awkwardness between them. They had become so close over the past weeks, first as friends, then as partners. Then as lovers.
That magical time, however, seemed ages past. A great gulf separated them now, one she could never hope to bridge.
Even so, the whispered words spilled from her lips. “You were missed.”
“Was I?” The question was so earnest, so full of longing, it finally snapped her carefully controlled emotions.
“I know what you must think of me,” she rasped. “But I will not apologize for my past. I know I made horrible decisions that impacted not only my own life but those of the people I loved. And the repercussions will follow me all my days. I’m sure you see now why a marriage between us would have never worked. A woman with my background, with the threat of ruin hanging over my head, could never be a duchess—”
He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. Though she knew better, much better, she went willingly, clinging to him, aware that this was where she had longed to be all along.
“You were dealt a devastating hand in life,” he said, his voice rumbling under her ear. “My heart breaks for what you’ve gone through. If I could call out the man who did it to you I would, and gladly. But know, here and now, that that time in your life does not define you. It has helped shape you, yes. But it is not who you are. You are not ruined, or broken, or a scandal. You are strong, and loving, and kind. I have never known a more wonderful woman in my life.”
She did not realize she was crying until her tears began to soak the fine lawn of his shirt. She pressed her face into his chest, not wanting him to see how his words affected her—and how it was beginning to make her hope for something that could never be.
But he stepped back, crooking one finger to tilt her face up. And the love in his eyes stole her breath.
“You did not allow me to tell you before, but I will tell you now. I love you, Clara.” He smiled tenderly as she sucked in a sharp breath, shock and wonder all coalescing in her breast. “I love you so much it was as if I had lost half of myself when I thought there was no chance of a future for us. I imagined sailing away from England, leaving you behind, and felt my heart would break in two, never to be mended no matter how far I sailed, how fast I ran. You are what makes me whole.”
She blinked furiously to clear the tears clouding her vision, refusing to lose sight of his beloved face for a moment.
He took her hand in his, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. “I have not swerved from the desire to marry you, Clara. If anything, this last day has made me realize I could never find happiness with anyone but you. My life would be joyless without you in it.”
She stared at him, stunned, hope beginning to rise up though she refused to allow it to take purchase. “But my past,” she said, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. “You’ve been away from England too long; you don’t know the scandal that could erupt. If it comes out, it would ruin you. You’re a duke, Quincy.”
“A title I never wanted, I assure you.”
“That doesn’t matter. It’s not something you can escape. And because your status is so high, the fall will be that much greater. Everything you do will be scrutinized. The truth will come out eventually. And when it does, they’ll scorn you behind your back, ruin your business dealings. They will be relentless.”
“If you think I care about all that, you haven’t been paying attention,” he drawled.