She laughed harshly. “You taught me about the practice. And I’ve read a few articles about it. It’s ghastly, what sometimes happens to these children.”
“You can’t save them all.”
“I can save some, and that’s preferable to none.”
He heard the determination in her voice, couldn’t help but admire it. Against his better judgment, he settled in and watched as she paced, three steps one way, three the other. He should leave her. He had business to see to, but it had felt so bloody good to hold her within his arms, to inhale her sweet fragrance. She might not be able to afford whatever perfume she’d worn before, but over the years, it had no doubt soaked into her skin and become such a part of her that it still lingered—or perhaps it was simply his memory of it that had caused his nostrils to flare.
In the far-off distance, he heard the pealing of a bell, twice. Two o’clock. Why was she not recognizing the reality? Why was she being so stubborn? “How long are you going to wait for your appointment to show?”
“As long as I have to. You can go on.”
“You said you were late. She’s probably already come and gone.”
Clenching her hands into fists, she swung around, faced him, and stepped out of the shadows until the distant light fell across her lovely features. “Are you speaking from experience? Because that’s the way you handle matters? You show up and then leave when the person you are to meet is a tad tardy?”
“I beg your pardon?”
As though propelled by a force over which she had no control, she marched forward with a speed that took him by surprise. “I waited! I waited for you until dawn.” He could clearly see the anguish in her expression. He’d never seen such despair. “Yes, I know I was twenty minutes late. But was I not even worth a few minutes of worry, of patience, of thinking perhaps something was delaying me? How many minutes did you give me before you decided to be done with me?”
Each word she threw at him was a blow to his head, his heart, his gut. “You waited?”
“I thought perhaps the wagon broke or the horse went lame or something, but you never showed, you never sent word. You just left me there. Or did you never show up at all? Was it all some grand jest? You’d taken the one thing of mine that was of any value, and were done with me? Is that the way it was? The lowly bastard deflowering the earl’s daughter. Is that what you told your mates? Did it make you a man?”
Slowly he uncoiled his body. “I was there, Vivi, at the stroke of midnight, just as I’d promised.”
“Then why in God’s name didn’t you wait for me?”
“Because your father was expecting me and had me arrested.”
Chapter 12
She’d thought her heart was naught but shattered shards, but his words broke it all over again. The pain in her chest made it difficult to breathe.
“No,” she whispered in horror. “That’s not possible.”
“I’d barely stepped into the garden when I was accosted by constables, trussed up like a Christmas goose. Then your father emerged from the shadows. I clearly remember his words. They played in my mind a million times. ‘My daughter is done with you.’ I assumed you told him about me, about our plans.”
Each word was a blow that threatened to drop her to her knees. She reached for him, brought her hand back, not certain he’d welcome her touch. “No, no, Finn. I told no one.”
“I don’t know how he knew, Vivi, but he knew. He saw to it that I went to prison.”
“Oh my God.” Tears burned her eyes. She no longer cared if he wanted her touch or not. She placed her palm against his cheek. “My poor Finn.”
Then that was no longer enough. She slid her arms around his neck, held him close. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. He never said a word to me.”
He enfolded her in his embrace, clutching her to him as though he’d been adrift at sea and someone had finally tossed him a rope. “I thought you knew,” he rasped. “Thought you were responsible.”
“No, my love.” The unexpected endearment, uttered on a sob, came from the depths of her soul as she suddenly needed to comfort the one who had once owned her heart. “How awful it must have been for you.”
She clung to him, striving to deal with a shift in all her emotions, in the hatred she’d harbored, the disappointment she’d suffered, the crushing of her heart that she’d somehow survived. She thought she’d been alone in her anguish, yet he’d been living through torments of his own. “How long?” she dared asked, her voice raw with her grief over all he’d endured. “How long were you in prison?”
“Five years.”
The words sliced into her soul as easily as a well-honed knife into butter. “No, no, no.”
She could find no words strong enough to convey the depths of her despair that he had suffered so at the hands of her father, that his desire to run off with her had cost him so dearly.
Easing back, he cupped her face between his hands, holding her gaze as his thumbs gently swept at the tears raining down her cheeks. “Don’t cry. It was long ago.”
