Chapter 27
A light rush of joy coupled with deep, dark despair swept across and sank into Olivia.
Jake had asked her to marry him. She’d said no.
His brow wrinkled in disbelief. “No?”
His inability to take no for an answer was almost comical. Almost.
His brow released, and his entire bearing took on a pugilistic set that didn’t appear remotely defeated. “What if there’s a babe?” he threw out like a rebuke.
A possibility she’d considered. But there were ways of concealing pregnancies, country estates and such. Besides, the ton would expect nothing less, or more, of her. Her resolve strengthened. “You mustn’t marry me.”
“Stop using that word. Must,” he growled, thwarted, frustrated. “It’s wearing thin.”
“Jake, stop and take a listen.” The strain of violin strings and the monotonous hum of the party drifted over the dense labyrinth. “Can you hear them? Discussing me? Dissecting me? Even in the Duke’s own house.”
“That hardly matters to—”
“It matters to you. Don’t you remember?” She inhaled deeply, sharp, midnight air frosting her lungs, steeling her for the conversation that must be had. “It matters for Mina’s chances with that lot.” She pressed on, insistent. “You see their refined, glossy smiles. What you don’t see are the sharp, vicious teeth hiding behind those civilized smiles. But I do. I’ve felt the fine points of those teeth sink into me. Mina is innocent. She deserves better than that.”
“I’m her father. I know what’s best for her.”
“It’s not me.”
He opened his mouth to speak and closed it. He shot to his feet and began pacing the length of the enclosed space, calling to mind a caged tiger who hadn’t yet made peace with the narrow confines of his cage. Welcome to your life in the ton, Right Honourable Jakob Radclyffe, Fifth Viscount St. Alban.
The reality of their situation had begun to sink in for him. Good. Great. Brilliant. Like a tenacious barrister pressing her point home, she continued, “Mina needs a stepmother of impeccable reputation. She needs a protective shield. We’ve accepted this in our hearts.”
He stopped mid-stride and swiveled toward her. Silent accusation pinned her in place. She’d read him all wrong. He hadn’t accepted her version of their reality. Not in the least.
“Our hearts? Do not speak to me of our hearts, Olivia.”
He stalked toward her, an unpleasant glint in his eye. A frisson of worry tingled down her spine, not for the safety of her person, but for something more important: the safety of her intentions.
“Mina isn’t your reason for refusing me . . . us.”
Olivia sprang up, her heart threatening to pound through her chest. She stepped behind the stone bench, placing it between her and him. As if it could protect her from the havoc he was wreaking inside her. “If you must know,” she began from what she thought was a safe enough distance, “I’m not certain we are well suited to one another. That the, um—”
“Passion?” he supplied.
“Yes, that the passion we share could be enough to sustain us over time.”
“The heat between us burns hot and bright enough to sustain us through not one lifetime, but a dozen.” His words emerged clipped, Dutch in intonation. He was definitely upset.
He rounded the bench. Now nothing was between them. Nothing in the physical world, anyway. But it wasn’t a physical barrier that stood between them. It was the one invisible to the naked eye that was most impenetrable. Solid enough to prevent one heart from accepting another.
“Try again,” he said, words that penetrated clear through to her core. “Your refusal isn’t about the fickleness of passion. It’s about your marriage.”
Her entire being stilled as if caught in an invisible snare, held in thrall to intense ice blue eyes that dared her to look away, to refute the veracity of his words. He wanted the truth? He would have it. “What if it is? Surely, you can see the parallel.”
“What parallel?”
“Between you and Percy.”
Incredulity spread across his face. “Not a single similarity exists between Percy and me.”
“No?” Cold steel wrapped around her heart and braced her for the words she must speak. “Percy withheld facts from me. You withheld facts from me. How are you any different?”
She knew how in so many ways, but she couldn’t let that knowledge see light. It might grow roots and undermine her purpose.
“I had—”
“Your reasons?” she interrupted. “Of course. And I understand them, truly I do, but lovers, husbands, men always have their reasons. It’s the prerogative of your sex. It places you above the women in your life and makes them less than equal. I shall never place myself in that position again.”
“I’ve told you that I seek a partner.”
No wife of mine will ever be subject to such a marriage.
She gave her head a clearing shake. She mustn’t lose focus. “I believe that you believe your words, but they can’t be true. The fact is you are a man, and I can never know you truly.”
“You know exactly who I am. Not as a representative of my sex, but me, Olivia. This conversation isn’t about generalities, but about us.”
“I thought that about Percy. Then we married. The truth is—”
“The truth is,” he interrupted, “you don’t trust your judgment when it comes to love.”
Her gut twisted and sank to her feet. She’d uttered similar words to him two nights ago on that magical rooftop. Now he was throwing them back at her. She deserved them. “I’ve been wrong before.”
“But we aren’t speaking of before. This is now.”
“Can’t you see? The stakes are too high to be wrong. What of the stepmother Mina needs?”
“Don’t throw Mina at me. That is pure evasion.”
Chastened, Olivia allowed the steel around her heart to release. He was right. Using Mina was an avoidance. “We are quite a pair of damaged goods, aren’t we? We both have sound reasons for swearing off love. Why can’t you leave it?”
“Is it so easy for you?” he asked.
“Easy isn’t the right word. Nothing in life is easy. Consider the price if we fail.”
“Olivia, is there a price too high?”
The gently spoken question hung in the air for a moment. It was the sort of moment that could go either way. To answer no was an undeniable temptation. But to answer yes was the more rational option. “I’ve done a fine job of avoiding that price these last eleven years until—”
“Until?”
“Until you came along,” she admitted. The admission needn’t change the outcome of this conversation. “But it’s too late for us. You see how capricious the universe can be?”
“You’ll never start truly living until you trust yourself and let your fear die.”
The compassion of those words threatened to deplete the last shreds of resistance left inside her. Her feet carried her past him and around the stone bench until they found the patch of grass bearing her imprint. She folded herself down into the spot and leaned against the bench.
There were a few angles from which to view the word living. It could describe the basic functioning of the body: blood pumping through veins; muscles contracting; brain processing. Or it could describe the very heights of human existence. To truly live meant to take life beyond its basics, to seize hold of it without a plan for the next step.
One had to risk all to truly live. One had no room for fear in such a life.
The air swirled around her as he settled onto the ground beside her. Her next breath caught the soft heat of his body and took it deep inside. It was a perfect breath. She closed her eyes and held it inside for as long as her lungs would allow. She would hold it inside forever if she could. Salty tears pinpricked the backs of her eyelids. Oh, that they, too, would stay inside forever.
“What if I loved you?” he spoke into the space between them.
The breath arrested inside her lungs, and hope swelled. Within that what if nested her chance to truly live. The next moment, her breath released, and the flight of fancy tucked itself away. “Love isn’t enough. It’s chaotic and fleeting.”
“Look at the stars, Olivia.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she took in the fathomless indigo sky.
“That isn’t chaos. It’s order. The past, present, and future suspended above our heads. Our past, present, and future are written there. If you squint hard enough, you can see it: a future so bright that the shadows of the past can never dim it.”
She averted her gaze. The stars now offered no comfort or respite. He’d managed to insinuate himself into the wide universe.
“But one must brave it.”
His words were perfect. Words that were years too late for her. She no longer put her faith in perfection. “Brave in love?” Even she could hear the hollow bluster that carried her words. “Madness, given all you and I have experienced.” She exhaled, and the fight left her. All that remained was a single stripped-down, implacable truth. “I can’t have you.”
His brow furrowed. “You can’t have me?” He leaned in, and her eyes fluttered shut. His lips brushing the sensitive cup of her ear, he whispered, “Olivia, you’re the prize. Has no one ever told you?”
A lone ripple of exultation fanned through her, holding her suspended in a warm, protective cocoon. She could stay here forever, waiting for him to say more words like the ones he’d just spoken. Words that would make her world, their world, right, possible. But the wider world lay beyond her closed eyes, pressing in, reminding her how impossible their world was.
A soft rustling sounded beside her, and she kept her eyes shut tight against reality. Still, her ears would hear his feet padding softly across the grass, receding away from her. Her eyes blinked open in time to catch a glimpse of him rounding the corner and out of sight.
She released a breath and the last of him.
No one would ever mistake her for someone brave.