“Then I met you.” Hugo’s voice grew rough. “And everything I thought I knew about marriage, about what I wanted—all of it crumbled the moment you smiled at me.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it. Sybil, from the moment you saved Rosalie, from that first conversation where you refused to be intimidated—I was lost.”
Hugo reached for her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away.
“The night we argued about children, when you told me your courses had come and you were disappointed—do you know what my first emotion was?”
Sybil shook her head.
“Relief. Not because I didn’t want children with you, but because the thought of you carrying my child terrified me.”
“Terrified you?”
“Completely. Because wanting a child with you meant admitting I loved you. Admitting you had the power to destroy me the way Caroline never could.”
Hugo’s grip tightened. “When you hoped you might be pregnant, when I saw the joy on your face—I realized I wanted that child asdesperately as you did. But I also realized that loving you meant risking everything I’d spent years protecting myself from.”
“So, you pushed me away,” Sybil said quietly.
“I pushed you away because I’m a coward. Because admitting I loved you meant admitting I’d rather die than lose you.”
The words hung between them, raw and honest.
“Hugo…” Sybil’s voice was thick with unshed tears.
“I love you.” The words came out fierce, desperate. “I love your courage, your compassion, your refusal to be intimidated by anyone. I love the way you’ve transformed my daughters from obedient children into confident young women. I love the way you’ve made our house a home.”
“I love you so much that when you left, when I woke up alone in our bed, I thought I might die from the loss of you.”
Sybil’s tears were falling freely now.
“The duel,” she whispered. “You were going to kill Thomas over a kiss.”
“I called it off. Rosalie made me understand that I was repeating your father’s mistakes, choosing pride over the happiness of the people I love most.”
“You called it off?”
“The moment I realized I was willing to destroy Rosalie’s happiness rather than admit I might be wrong. Just like I was willing to convince you that you meant nothing to me rather than admit you’d become everything to me.”
Hugo brought her hand to his lips, pressing a desperate kiss to her palm.
“Sybil, I know I’ve hurt you terribly. I know you have every reason not to trust me. But if you’ll give me another chance—if you’ll let me prove that I can be the husband you deserve—I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt my feelings again.”
“I want to build a family with you,” he continued urgently. “Not because it’s expected, but because I can’t imagine anything more wonderful than children who combine your kindness with your intelligence.”
“But I also want to enjoy every step of that process. I want to take you on the honeymoon we never had; I want to show you how much I treasure you before we’re busy with nurseries and midnight feedings.”
Sybil was studying his face intently.
“I want to wake up beside you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night. I want to argue with you about estatemanagement and watch you intimidate London society into supporting your charitable causes. I want to grow old with you, Sybil.”
“Hugo.” His name was barely a breath on her lips.
“I know it may take time for you to trust me again. I know you have every right to make me prove myself worthy. But please, Sybil—please don’t give up on us entirely.”
For a long moment, they stood in silence, Hugo’s heart hammering as he waited for her response.
