Now he had come, just when she’d abandoned the last shred of hope she still clung to that their love could be darned after all. She pressed a hand to her recklessly galloping heart. What to do?
“Has the butler told him I’m not at home?” she asked, trying to sort through the hodgepodge of her confused feelings. She didn’t think she could see him now without crumbling. He had hurt her so very deeply.
“He has.” Maggie grimaced. “The earl refuses to leave. He has said he will remain until you return. I’m sure I’ve never heard of anything so forward. Our poor butler hasn’t an inkling what to do, and I’m afraid the footmen aren’t burly enough to successfully remove him.”
Of course Will would not bow to social custom. Of course he would be arrogant and demanding. Of course he would not leave. A reasonable man, knowing how betrayed she must feel by his deception, would have mercy and grant her some space. A reasonable man would not follow her to London and barge into her safe haven.
But the Earl of Pembroke was not a reasonable man. Nor was he a man worthy of her love. How foolish she’d been to allow him to deceive her and misuse her again and again. She couldn’t, for her own sanity and well-being, allow him to charm his way back into her good graces once more.
“What am I to do, Victoria?”
Before she could answer, the drawing room door burst open. Maggie’s harried-looking butler attempted to announce Pembroke while Will simply stalked into the room as if he belonged there. His gaze ensnared hers and her traitorous body went weak. She shot to her feet in an unsteady lack of grace, her forgotten book sliding to the floor with a thud her mind scarcely registered. Crossing her arms over her chest, she faced him. Her stomach tightened and her heart seemed a physical ache within her breast.
“Ah, I suspected you were hiding from me, my dear,” he said, his voice as smooth as fresh butter.
Poor Maggie appeared to be having apoplexy. Her face had grown red in her agitation. She hurried toward him like a hornet whose nest had been trampled, out to sting. “My lord, you cannot simply barge about in my home.”
He stopped and bowed, ever the sophisticated gentleman. “Pray accept my apologies, my lady. It is simply that I am overcome with love of my wife and I can’t bear to spend another second without her. I’m sure you understand.”
Victoria frowned at more of his silver-tongued niceties. He didn’t love her. How could he, and treat her as he had? She was rigid as he strode to her, his eyes fastened to her as if memorizing the mere sight of her. She knew it for the act it was, and she was determined to remain unaffected.
Maggie was sputtering. “Your wife is seeking refuge from you, my lord.”
“I am well aware of that.” He caught Victoria’s hands in his and raised them to his lips for a fervent kiss. “And I don’t blame her one whit.”
“You don’t?” Victoria asked, her brow furrowed.
“You don’t?” Maggie echoed.
“Not at all.” Will still held her hands in a tight grasp, his intense eyes never straying from her. “I’ve been a complete scoundrel to her. I don’t deserve her as my wife. I’ve abandoned her, lied to her, and hurt her, and for that I shall never forgive myself.” He paused. “But I will also never forgive myself if I let her go, for you see, she is the very best part of my life.”
She wanted to believe those words, fool that she was. Longed to believe them, just as she had so many other words that had rolled from his facile tongue. So many words that had dashed into meaningless promises.
“You certainly didn’t act as if I was,” she pointed out.
“Lady Sandhurst,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “Would you mind terribly giving us some privacy?”
“Oh my.” Maggie sounded breathless. Victoria cast a glance her friend’s way to find that she was watching the scene unfold, pie-eyed. “I suppose so, my lord. That is, if it is acceptable to Victoria.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured Maggie, even though she wasn’t sure of the veracity of her own words. In truth, she didn’t know what to expect of Will, what to expect of herself. Seeing him again shook her. What he’d said shook her.
When they were alone, the drawing room door safely closed on curious ears, he pulled her into his strong body for an embrace. She held herself stiffly, her arms at her sides, as he pressed her tightly to him. He buried his face in her hair on a deep inhalation, as if he were drinking in her scent.
“By God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured. “I know you don’t owe me anything at all, but please, Victoria, listen to what I have to say.”
“I don’t know if I can.” As admissions went, it was completely honest, bereft of any trappings. She had never been good at girding herself against him.
“I’m begging you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her with such ferocity that it was almost painful. “Please.”
She loved the way he held her. Not returning his embrace felt somehow wrong. She had to force herself to recall the gravity of what he’d done. He was a man she could not trust and had shown that to her again and again.
She summoned her inner strength and pulled back to look at him, searching his gaze. “I needn’t listen to anything you have to say.”
“You are entitled to your good opinion, but before you refuse me, think upon this.” His beautiful face was taut with an emotion she couldn’t define. “What have I to gain in seeking you out now? You’ve already given me my freedom. Should a divorce occur, my family will keep your dowry. I’m young enough to remarry and try for an heir to please my father. I don’t need you, Victoria.”
His proclamation startled her. It hadn’t been what she expected to hear, and she had to confess, if only to herself, that what he said possessed a ring of truth. If they were to divorce, or perhaps even annul their union, he would be free to remarry. In time, the scandal would dim, and he was the heir of a duke after all. The money his family had needed was already theirs. He didn’t need her any longer, it seemed.
“I don’t need you,” he said again, tipping up her chin in that way that had become so familiar and beloved to her. “Except that without you, my life has no meaning. I was an aimless blackleg, with no thought for the future or my responsibilities, no care for anyone, including myself. And then I came to you in the country. You were beautiful and strong. You had transformed Carrington House, won over the servants, and I couldn’t get enough of you. I discovered I’d married a striking, intelligent, caring force of a woman who somehow saw the best in my blighted soul when everyone else believed it had no redeemable qualities.”
