“I’m sorry, but no.”
Hewassorry. Not for following his conscience, of course, but for the pain it caused Della. He’d wanted to part on good terms. To preserve what they’d shared as a bright memory to look back on when he needed it. Now he would always remember that he’d hurt her at the end, just as he’d known he would.
Della nodded sadly. She seemed resigned to his decision—an unexpected blessing, given how headstrong she could be. He’d half expected her to argue with him. But she only said in a soft voice, “And for yourself?”
“Pardon?”
“If Lady Ashton gets her bill through Parliament, would you ever wish to remarry one day, or have you concluded that it’s out of the question?”
Lyman sucked in a swift breath. He hadn’t expected her to come at him so directly. Surely she could never have imagined that they might have a real future together, with his circumstances being what they were?
“I wouldn’t have anything to offer a wife,” he said. “I have a title, but no country house, a meager income, and if my reputation isn’t already in shambles by now, it will be by the time Parliament is done with me.” He paused, wanting to be sure Della understood him.When she met his gaze, he added deliberately, “Any woman I might admire enough to contemplate marriage with, I wouldn’t insult with such an offer.”
A pucker appeared between Della’s brows to mark her disapproval. “If you truly care for someone, their character matters far more than any of those things. And plenty of ladies have wealth of their own to support—”
“Della,” he interrupted, not wanting to hear her reasons. It was plain that they weren’t speaking in hypotheticals. “You know why I can’t offer you more.”
Her cheeks grew very red. Any other lady would have been too embarrassed to press the matter further, but Della, with all her stubborn courage, was undeterred. “No, Idon’tknow,” she said, her voice trembling. “Because we haven’t had a conversation about it. Not really. I don’t want to be presumptuous if you simply don’t feel that strongly about me. But I—” She broke off here, twisting her hands nervously. “Well, I suppose I have come to feel rather strongly aboutyou. Far more than I intended at the outset. And I know that my club must pose an obstacle, but I’ve been thinking about it and I’ve decided not to be quite so involved now as I was before…” She let her voice trail off, appearing unsure.
Had she done that for him?
Something twisted in Lyman’s chest. How had they come to this point? He should never have let things go so far. He should have ended their connection ages ago, before he could get close enough to break Della’s heart. But he’d been selfish and weak, as usual, and now she would pay the price for it.
Lyman took her hands into his, stilling their nervous movements. Della looked up at him with eyes that were far too bright. “It isn’t only your club,” he said slowly. “And it isn’t you. You are everything that’s bright and wonderful, Della. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
She blinked, not fooled by this opening.
Lyman pressed on. “You know what’s coming next for me. Even if you didn’t read what they printed in the papers—”
“I did.” At his wince, she added, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do otherwise.”
He wished she hadn’t seen all that. He hated to imagine Della poring over all the sordid details, trying to separate truth from fiction. But at least she should understand why he had to reject her.
“Then you must realize that things will only get worse from here on out. Don’t you see how uncomfortable your friends are around me? They all think I’m a danger to your reputation—”
“They don’t know you yet. Jane is just a bit slow to warm up, that’s all. Once she has a bit more time—”
“They’re right.” Lyman’s voice was sharp enough to cut through Della’s excuses. She stiffened at his tone, but he pressed onward. Better to hurt her now if it meant that she finally understood. “I’m poison to you. To anyone who intends to maintain their good name. If they had reason to worry when my transgressions were a decade behind me, how much more so now that everything is being aired out in public?”
But Della hadn’t understood anything, it seemed. “I don’t care what they think of us,” she protested, her jaw jutting out in defiance. “I’ve never worried about public opinion before. What kind of life is it when you let fear dictate your choices?”
“You think everything is a grand adventure.” Lyman sighed. “I don’t want to be the one to make you realize how painful it can be to become an outcast.”
“Why should you decide what’s best for me? Just because you’re older and more worldly doesn’t mean you know better than I do. If your biggest concern is truly my reputation, then it should be formeto decide what risks to run.”
Lyman bit back a strangled noise of frustration. Couldn’t she see that he was only trying to protect her?
“It’s for me to decide because I can’t bear to see you hurt on my behalf. I can’t destroy another woman’s life.”
They were both silent for a long time. Lyman had spoken the words without thinking, fueled more by emotion than reason for once, but he felt their truth in his bones.
If he stayed with Della, hewoulddestroy her. It was only a question of time.
“I’m not your first wife,” she finally ventured. “I’m made of sterner stuff than that, I daresay. And you aren’t the same man you were back then either.”
“Aren’t I?” he retorted. “All of London thinks me a monster, after what they’ve read. You’re the only one who insists on believing otherwise.” This wasn’t technically true, but Lyman refused to count Lord Esterhazy. He had some standards.
“But they haven’t printed the full story! It’s unfair to you.”
