Bloody hell. I can’t do anything right where this woman is concerned.
Drake sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Heather. All I know is that I already miss you.”
Her big blue eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them rapidly away. “I miss you too, but even if we were to work this out, all the reasons why we don’t suit remain. I think it’s time for us both to admit that what we shared in the cellar can’t survive. But I’ll never forget you, Drake.” Choking back a sob, she spun and left the room, leaving Drake staring blankly after her, his heart twisting in his chest.
* * *
AS SOON AS HEATHERleft Drake, she ducked into the women’s loo, struggling to keep from completely breaking down. The hardest thing she’d ever done was reject Drake’s overture of forgiveness, but the moment he’d started talking, she’d known it was the only thing she could do.
Taking a deep breath, she moved to the sink and splashed water on her face, washing away her tears and cooling her overheated cheeks.
It can never work. He doesn’t think you’re good enough for him.
She told herself that over and over until the emotional storm passed, then dried her face and stared into the mirror, stunned by how wan and pale she looked.
Of course, you look terrible. You just walked away from the man you love.
The thought stunned her, but she wasn’t sure why. No matter how hard she’d tried to fight it, no matter how many times she’d told herself that a true relationship between herself and the marquess’s son could never work, she’d still held a tiny kernel of hope in her heart that it would.
I love him. I’ll never stop loving him.
When she was a child, she’d dreamed that she’d meet a handsome prince, that she’d be swept away from her pitiful life into one of beauty and romance. She’d believed that happily ever after existed, that nothing could ever destroy true love.
But sometimes the obstacles between two people were unsurmountable. None of her storybooks had ever prepared her for the fact that sometimes love just wasn’t enough.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Drakeset out for his family’s country estate, which was a good eight hours’ ride south of London. He rode his favorite horse, and it felt good to be out of the city. After everything that had happened during the last week, perhaps he’d needed a few days away from Scotland Yard and the chaos of his feelings for Heather.
He tried to ignore the weight of the responsibilities he’d left behind and just enjoy the ride down the country road, concentrating on the bird song instead of his worries for his friends and Mrs. Burrows. He’d left plenty of people looking out for everyone he cared about. Convincing his father that Danbury needed to be locked away was the most important thing he could possibly do.
For a while he mostly succeeded, deeply inhaling the country breeze, reveling in the sunlight that at last held a hint of warmth, and smiling at the antics of some of the livestock he passed along the way. But inevitably, his thoughts circled back around to Heather.
The last words she’d said to him yesterday before she’d left his office kept replaying over and over in his mind. Part of him knew that she was right, but they’d stung, nevertheless. He’d been so focused on the fact that she’d betrayed him that he hadn’t really given himself time to reflect upon the story she’d told him, of how she’d been threatened and hurt. He’d been too quick to pass judgment, so jealous to think that she’d been with the bastard who’d kidnapped him that he’d lashed out without thinking.
He hadn’t meant to make an overture of forgiveness toward her when she’d come down to the station, but the moment he saw her, he’d known that he had to at least try. Now that his initial anger had dissipated, all he could think about was her kindness, her gentleness, the way she’d held him and made love to him. Deep down, he didn’t think any of that had been a lie. She cared about him. Perhaps almost as much as he’d grown to care about her. And shehadfinally told him the truth, even though she’d waited far too long.