His words left her stricken, partially because she was afraid to believe them, and partially because she knew no one could put on such a skilled performance. There remained many questions, however, that needed asking. “Why would you lie to me? Why not tell me the truth?”
“I was in too deep,” he said without hesitation, his gaze never wavering. “By the time I realized how much I cared for you, I was too afraid to admit to you that I wasn’t the good husband seeking redemption that you thought me to be. I didn’t want you to hate me or to leave me. If I could go back and erase the damage, tell you when I ought to have, know that I would. There’s at least a hundred things in my life that I’d do differently, given half the chance. But I can’t. All I can do is promise to do better in future. I give you that promise now, my love.”
It was what she needed to hear. But the inundation of his revelations was too great. She was besieged, her mind trying to sort through the particulars of what he’d told her, her heart wanting to throw herself immediately into his arms.
“I can’t make a decision now,” she said, trying desperately to hold on to her fleeing sense of self-preservation. “I need time, Pembroke, time to think about all you’ve said.”
He released a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. She was shocked that he was openly showing such depth of emotion. He had always been filled with skillful lovemaking, sensual smiles, and teasing to deflect from the seriousness of the moment. He had never been this open, this vulnerable.
“I understand, my dear.” He brought her hands to his lips for one last, lingering kiss. “Thank you. I shall give you all the time you need, but I’m afraid I cannot stay away from you. I’ll return every day until you reach your determination.”
He would return every day? Good heavens. Her ability to resist him would be worn thin in no time if she had to see him each day. Yet she had to admit that some small, rebellious part of her wanted that to happen. She wanted nothing more than for him to prove himself to her. She had resigned herself to the fact that, regardless of what he had done, she would never love another man as she loved Will.
“Very well,” she agreed.
“Until tomorrow, my love.” He hesitated. “May I kiss you?”
She wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth upon hers, but her common sense told her she ought not to tempt it. “No,” she denied at last. “You may not.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
And with a bow, he took his leave.
“Are you going to forgive him?”
The question, asked by Maggie over breakfast, gave Victoria a start. She glanced up from her plate and the food she’d been toying with but not eating. Blood sausages had never held any appeal for her, but she had to admit she hadn’t had much appetite over the last week.
“I’m not certain,” she murmured. “So much has come to pass between us, and it’s all left me hopelessly confused, Maggie.”
Maggie sent her a commiserating smile. “I know, my dear. You have to admit he’s been incredibly attentive. His actions seem to be those of a man desperately in love. I confess I’m rather jealous. I wish Sandhurst looked upon me the way Pembroke does you.” She sighed, staring out the window into the busy London morning. “On second thought, I wish Sandhurst would look upon me at all.”
Poor Maggie. Her husband the marquis was in love with Lady Billingsley and made no secret of it, carrying on an affair with the woman despite his relatively new marriage. Victoria had only met him but once, and he had been polite but frigid. He did not seem to be a particularly kind man, and Maggie certainly deserved a better husband.
Victoria forced her mind to her own husband. Maggie was right. Pembroke had arrived each day for the last sennight, paying her careful, polite visits in the presence of Maggie. He was charming as ever, incredibly solicitous, handsome to a fault. She suspected he’d even won her friend over with his undeniable magnetism. But though her resolve was weakening, she was still left more conflicted than ever.
She missed the life they had begun together, that much was irrefutable. Of course she missed sharing his bed, the incredible pleasure he gave her. She longed for his teasing smiles, his witty sense of humor. Still, hidden inside her was a desperately frightened heart.
“I’m scared,” she admitted to her friend.
“That’s to be expected, dear heart,” Maggie said. “But nothing in life is worthwhile if it’s easy.”
As her friend’s words sank into her mind, the butler reappeared to announce Pembroke’s daily arrival. He awaited her in the drawing room. She took a deep breath. “Will you come with me, Maggie?”
“Not today, I think,” her friend said with a sly smile. “It’s time you met him on your own.”
Perhaps Maggie was right, she thought as she stood, abandoning her barely eaten breakfast. Love was worthwhile, and she still loved Will, despite their troubled past. But was she ready to forgive him? Did she dare?
Victoria entered the drawing room to discover her husband had not entirely come on his own. It appeared he had also brought a study’s worth of documents with him. He had spread an assortment of papers all over aLouis Quinzetable.
“Darling,” he greeted her, looking up from the act of shuffling through a sheaf of documents. He had an unusually severe air this morning, no sign of his customary teasing grin. “You are looking beautiful as ever this morning.”
She was instantly on edge. “Thank you, but what in heaven’s name is all this?”
“Legal papers prepared by my solicitor. Come and have a look.” He waved her onward. “I hope they will hold some meaning for you.”
Wary, she crossed the room to his side. His familiar scent teased her senses. She couldn’t help but notice how very gorgeous he appeared. She longed to fall into his arms, fall back into the life they had tentatively begun together. Forcing her feelings of longing to abate, she glanced down at the papers he had brought for her.
She quickly skimmed over them, not certain she was reading them correctly. “Can this be what I think it is?”
