Selina winced at his tone. It was unsettlingly similar to Zillah’s when she delivered a scolding. The comparison only served to remind her of the words that had haunted her just before she had sunk down into the snow.
A man you cannot hope to have.
‘I’m sorry. It was never my intention to get into such trouble when I left Sir William’s house.’ Edward glanced at her but didn’t cease his fretful pacing to and fro. ‘I just couldn’t stay there a moment longer. I suppose I should have told you, but I didn’t think you would mind my leaving.’
Zillah’s words echoed louder in Selina’s mind as she looked across at her tight-faced husband, and fresh sorrow began to ache in her chest. The dark shadows beneath his eyes touched her heart and made her want to reach out and pull him to her, to allow him to chase away the final vestiges of the winter’s chill with his masculine warmth.
Zillah’s words echoed louder still—convenience and nothing more...a man you cannot hope to have—and she forced the urge back. She could never now tell him how she longed for his touch, or how living without him would be daily torture. He had never sought her love, and with his uncle’s return Selina’s feelings could only grow more and more irrelevant.
It was time for her to voice the decision she had come to moments before the cold had overcome her and she had sunk into a heap on the ground, so icy and so still that Edward had mistaken her for dead. Selina knew there would never be a better moment, and yet the words fled from her as she struggled to speak.
‘I had not the smallest idea of you being so moved.’ She spoke quietly, her eyes fixed upwards on the red embroidered canopy of the unfamiliar bed in which she lay. ‘I have no wish to be a further burden on you, and therefore I shall be leaving Blackwell as soon as I am able.’
Edward had moved to stand close to the fire, one arm leaning on the mantel as he waited for her to answer, and the expression Selina saw flit across his face as he turned sharply towards her was unreadable.
‘You mean in the springtime, as we agreed?’
‘No. I mean now—as soon as I’m able to leave this bed.’
Staring upwards, Selina missed the shadow that clouded Edward’s features.
‘That was not our agreement,’ he said.
‘I’m aware of that. Given the circumstances, however—you must understand why I can’t stay?’
‘If it is only on account of my uncle’s return, I—’
She cut him off with a shake of her aching head. Intense unhappiness welled up inside her and she bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her mouth from trembling. ‘It isn’t only that.’
The terrible truth returned to pinch at her again and she was powerless to push it aside. The return of Charles Fulbrooke was indeed a horrible prospect, but so was the notion of how close she had come to allowing herself to believe her deepest, most secret wish could ever come true.
There was no room for both her and Charles at Blackwell Hall, and she was under no illusion that Edward would choose her—a necessary evil—over his own flesh and blood. She and Edward would never be together in any real way, and the knowledge made her want to weep. The fact that she couldn’t tell him the real reason for her suffering only made it more painful. He must never know how truly she had fallen for him, and there was only one lie she could think of that would explain her sudden decision she knew he would believe.
Her eyes burning with supressed emotion, Selina forced herself to speak. ‘I—I have realised the truth of my presence here.’ That much was true at least, but the rest of her falsehood tasted bitter on her tongue. ‘I have seen the reality of my situation and now I know I cannot stay.’
* * *
Edward’s blood ran cold in his veins as his mind struggled to process Selina’s words.
It was as though he had been suddenly doused in a bath of icy water, and his thoughts spun uncontrollably, unable to comprehend the dizzying turn of events that now unfolded before him.
She intended to leave him.
The image of Selina’s rapt face staring up into his own as he bent towards her lips burst upon him, and he involuntarily tightened his grip on the mantel.
I pushed her too far. I frightened her, and now she wants to run from me as well as my uncle.
She was silent as she lay, unmoving, in the splendour of the carved oak bed—the bed in which Edward had spent so many sleepless nights thinking of her, wondering if there was a way to break down the walls Selina seemed so determined to build between them.
His first thought upon seeing her raven hair fanned out across his own pillows had been how badly he wished he could see the same sight every night, and the realisation that such a thing could never come to pass sat in his stomach like a stone.
‘What do you mean, the reality of your situation?’ Edward crossed the room towards her and dropped unceremoniously into the chair at her side. The urge to seize one of her little hands, now tracing the embroidery at the edges of the blankets with tense fingers, almost took his breath away.
‘I have been pretending to be something I’m not.’
Selina’s fingers paused in their activity. Edward gripped his own in his lap to prevent himself from reaching out.
‘I wore those clothes, and smiled, and danced—all the while denying who I truly am.’
Edward saw her throat move as she swallowed, his eyes tracking the movement of her slender neck even as he fought the desire to touch it. He passed a hand across his face, hiding the emotion he feared he could not contain.
‘You have denied nothing. All your people know you married me only as part of a bargain to save them—surely anything else you have done has been in the same vein.’
When Selina raised her eyes to his Edward was surprised to find them dimmed, dulled by a look of hopelessness he couldn’t understand.
‘Yes. That was why we wed, was it not? There was no feeling there. If I recall, you thought our mutual indifference could work to our advantage.’
She smiled at him, a sad, thin thing that somehow managed to make her look much older than her years.
‘That was the only reason you could possibly have welcomed me into your home.’
Edward frowned, his brows drawn tightly together as he forced himself to stem the automatic contradiction that rose to his lips. The urge to deny her words was strong.
How could she still think she mattered so little to him, even after all this time? After they had shared such a heated embrace and he had comforted her as she cried? After he had lifted her from what he had feared was her icy grave and laid her down in his own bedchamber, knowing it was the warmest in the house, and taken up a bedside vigil that had lasted long into the night? Did that strike her as meaning nothing? Despite these actions, she still attributed to him so little feeling... Perhaps to her he was still, deep down, the same as all the other faceless gentry she feared.
Her face was lovely in the firelight, despite the strange sadness that sought to undermine the beauty of her eyes. Edward looked away when she avoided his gaze, staring instead at his hands as they lay in the broad spread of his lap.
‘I wish you would reconsider.’
Even as he spoke the words he feared they were worthless. The heaviness in his gut increased with every second that passed, and he cursed his inability to tell her honestly that he would be lost if she left him, his existence without her like a living death. But the fear of rejection roared up within him again, the mocking faces of his mother and Letitia sneering at his pain, and he lapsed into silence.
‘I cannot. I realised this evening I have no place here, living among my betters.’
‘Your betters?’ Edward stared at her, incredulity creeping into his voice. What new nonsense was this? ‘This cannot be. When have I ever treated you as anything other than my equal? Or given you the impression I think you are somehow beneath me?’
Selina
still refused to meet his eye. Vexation beginning to pump through his veins, Edward abandoned his restraint and reached for her, circling one fragile wrist with the fingers of his right hand. He felt the rapid tick of her pulse beneath the thin skin, and marvelled at how warmth had returned to what had before been so cold—before she pulled away from him.
‘Never in word, but I am not a fool. I see now how truly wide the chasm is between us. I am not and never will be a real lady, no matter how expensive a gown I am hidden beneath. Our worlds are poles apart and can never fit together. I do not belong here.’
Edward sat back in his chair. They had finally reached the crux of the matter, he thought in fierce frustration, and it was in no way flattering. The injustice of her words hit him with cruel severity, and he felt what tenuous control he held over his temper begin to slip.
So that was her opinion of him: that he was every bit as bad as the shallow society he took such pains to avoid, and that the only woman who could ever satisfy him was a vapid, fashionable, upper-class lady.
The spectres of his mother and Letitia rose up before him again, even as Edward stared at his stone-faced wife. The contrast between the three women had never been more stark than at that moment. How could Selina possibly imagine she was the one lacking? Her warmth and instinctive kindness might be a different kind of fortune, but Edward had never been so certain that such riches were the only ones truly worth having.
But what was the point in such idle thoughts? The treasure of Selina’s goodness would never be his. That much was now painfully plain, Edward lamented as the shadows from his past loomed ever more largely. Letitia’s presence in his mind disgusted him, and yet there was nothing he could do to banish her from stalking through his head, unlocking memories he had kept hidden for so long.
He balled his hands into fists, clenching them tightly as though faced with some physical assailant. ‘Damn it all, Selina. Is this how you think of me? That I judge your value on how high you were born or how well you look in a silk gown?’ Edward’s voice was low as he struggled to maintain his composure. ‘I value a good soul above all else, madam, which is one of the reasons I hold you in higher esteem than any woman I have ever met.’
Selina’s eyes flew to his face and he saw the glimmer of uncertainty that flickered within them.
‘You know you don’t mean that. We both know a Romani has no place in your home—’
‘Will you stop telling me the contents of my own mind?’ The final thread by which Edward’s temper hung snapped, and he turned to Selina in real anger. ‘I and I alone am party to what I do and do not know, and I tell you this: I would rather a Romani in my home than any number of young ladies of my own class. Do you truly think it’s the ability to tell one spoon from another or speak flawless French that impresses me? I once knew two women with those accomplishments and more—the epitome of perfect gentlewomen—and their conduct scarred me for life.’
He swallowed. Selina’s gaze never left his own.
‘I am in no rush to repeat the experience.’
A silence stretched out between them, filled only with the crackle of flames as they writhed in the grate. Edward flexed his fingers, uncurling them from the angry fists they had made, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife watching in wordless contemplation.
She would ask questions now—of course she would. Any woman would be curious, but Edward knew Selina well enough to understand the depths her curiosity could run to. His mind began to work, running over possible falsehoods and diversions from the truth. How could he ever find words to explain how between them his mother and Letitia had left him unable to love? To the one woman on earth he now felt he would love for the rest of his life?
‘Who were they, Edward?’
Selina’s voice broke the silence, quiet against the stirring of the fire. Edward glanced at her, and all thoughts of deception melted away at the genuine concern in her eyes.
He felt her gaze on him, warm as he shook his head. You don’t have to answer. She doesn’t have to know. But the look in her eye was so gentle, so sweetly concerned, that the dam within him broke and he muttered the words he had thought never to share with anyone.
He sighed. ‘My mother and my former fiancée.’
The concern in her face softened further into an expression of such deep compassion Edward felt his breath catch in his throat.
‘And what was it they did to scar you so terribly?’
Edward leaned his head back onto the top of his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he marshalled his thoughts.
Two paths lay ahead of him. The first one—to minimise the damage Mother and Letitia had wreaked upon his ability to trust in the constancy of women—was tempting. He could keep his demons hidden from Selina and offer her some fake tale. The other path was that of complete honesty. It would be to trust Selina with the knowledge of the pain he had kept buried deep down within himself for almost his entire life, to lay bare to her the inner workings of his heart and mind.
Could he take that step? Certainly she had shown him time and again that she possessed great empathy with the troubles of others—her devotion to her people was evidence enough of that—but could it be that her sympathy would extend to him, a member of the class that had done her such a terrible, life-shattering wrong?
A sudden burst of fire erupted in the fingers of his left hand. Edward started, looking down quickly for the cause, only to see Selina’s fingers entwined with his own and her dark eyes watching him with silent understanding.
Sparks exploded in the pit of his stomach as he watched her small hand gently fold over his, and he released one ragged breath. How was it that she managed to unman him so? Even after the long months of their marriage his reaction to her still took him by surprise.
Edward began to speak, wondering even as the words passed his lips by what witchcraft Selina dragged them from him.
‘I was twelve years old when my mother left my father for another man—only a week or so before I met you for the first time in the Blackwell woods. She was never the most attentive parent, but I loved her as fiercely as any boy loves his mother, and thought she felt the same.’
He frowned, a crease appearing between his fair brows. He should stop talking, he knew, but Selina’s soundless encouragement gave him reason to continue.
‘I realise now, of course, that I never mattered to her very much. She was proud of me as an extension of herself, and for what I would become: a rich country squire with a huge estate, once I inherited.’
Edward paused, looking down at Selina’s hand held tightly in his own.
‘I know now that it was her arrogance that prompted any affection she had for me, and it ceased as soon as she found another, more valuable prize. The man she left us for was a foreign nobleman, with a fortune ten times the size of my father’s.’
Edward heard Selina’s soft intake of breath and allowed a grim smile entirely devoid of humour to twist his lips.
‘She left without even saying goodbye and I have never heard from her since.’
Selina’s eyes were filled with wonder as she shook her head slowly, compassion radiating from her so strongly it was almost palpable. ‘I am so, so sorry, Edward.’ He saw her throat move as she swallowed, evidently at a loss for words. ‘I had no idea. I assumed your mother must have died—I never dreamed...’
‘No. You could never imagine such an unnatural mother when your own loved you so fiercely.’ The light from the fire stung his eyes and he rubbed them roughly.
‘And your fiancée? Did she—?’
‘Leave for another man? Just as my mother left my father?’ Edward’s laugh was short and bitter. ‘Your instinct is uncanny.’
Selina said nothing, apparently waiting for Edward to continue.
I might as well tell her everything. She already knew half of his shame—why not finish the sorry tale of why h
is heart had been so cold?
Edward gazed deeply into the fire, ignoring the burning in his eyes. ‘Letitia was everything a man in my position could have wished for: beautiful and accomplished. When she set out to catch me I found her captivating, despite myself, and it wasn’t long before I believed myself sincerely in love.’
He glanced towards Selina’s intently listening face.
‘I was lonely, I suppose. I was living in London to escape the daily wars with my father, and for a while Letitia seemed like the answer to my empty life. We were quickly engaged and my father was thrilled—until three days before the wedding, when I received word she had eloped with another man of our acquaintance and was lost to me forever, taking my faith in gentry women with her. You asked me once why I did not choose to marry a woman I could love. The truth is I feared it. Certainly love for a woman in any way reminiscent of my mother or Letitia.’
He traced his fingers down the back of Selina’s hand, noting the contrast between the tone of his skin and hers.
‘Do you see it now? I value your difference from the people with whom I was raised. Your kindness, your honesty and complete lack of guile... If you are unlike a gentry woman it is only to your credit. It’s because of who you are that I—that I—’
That I love you, he concluded silently, knowing without question that he could no more voice his thoughts aloud than he could grow wings and fly.
She might be feeling some modicum of sympathy for him in that moment, but the knowledge that Selina’s opinion of him had previously sunk so low stung. The fact that she had wanted to leave him could only be taken as proof that her feelings did not match his own.
Selina’s brow furrowed slightly, but she did not pull her hand away as his fingers lightly sketched the network of veins at her wrist.
‘Where are they now?’ she asked.
The Marriage Rescue Page 20
