And she had never carried another.
She didn’t know if she could.
Theo was quiet at her back, and a sudden flood of embarrassment mingled with sadness overcame her. “I don’t know why I told you that. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have done so. It is all in the past now.”
“Don’t.” His voice was gruff, but his touch was tender as he rolled her until she lay on her back and he was hovering over her. “Don’t apologize.” He cupped her face reverently, his palm hot, his callused thumb stroking over her cheek. “Thank you for sharing this part of yourself with me.”
She tried her best not to think of that day, that tremendous loss. How she had mourned for the babe. It hadn’t mattered one whit that she had been so early on that she hadn’t realized she wasenceinte. But then, all too soon, she’d had Bertie to grieve for as well.
“I never told anyone,” she admitted. “The fault was mine for growing so overset.”
“No, love.” Theo kissed her softly, reverently, a kiss of consolation rather than seduction. He raised his head, his hazel gaze burning into hers. “The fault was not yours. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
But she did. How many times had she wondered how different her life as a widow would be if she hadn’t been left entirely alone, if she had been the mother she had always wanted to be?
Tears were rolling hotly down her cheeks now, and she couldn’t stop them. “What a ninny you must think me, sobbing after all these years.”
“I think you many things,” he said, kissing the tears from her cheeks. “Strong, beautiful, intelligent, bold, selfless. Ninny isn’t amongst them. I’m sorry for the child you lost, for the husband you lost. Sorry for your sorrow. I wish I could carry it for you. Take it from you. Lift all your burdens.”
She felt those words deeply, to the very marrow. Because she felt the same way for him. If she could take all his pain, the demons of his past that haunted him still, and lock them away, she would.
Her hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, his bare skin so warm and vital beneath hers, and in his tenderness and reassuring presence, her tears receded. “Now we have showed each other our scars.”
He gave her another chaste kiss. “Yes, we have.”
“What will happen when your time at Hunt House is over?” she asked, giving voice to the question that had been troubling her.
His expression changed, hardening, his mask slipping back into place. “I will move to the next duty.”
“My widow’s portion is small, but perhaps it might be enough for a cottage in the country,” she ventured.
“What are you suggesting?” His gaze searched hers, his jaw tense.
Whatwasshe suggesting? He looked so beautiful in the early-morning light. Handsome and fierce and hers. She never wanted to leave this bed. She was speaking from the heart. Making plans that she was not even certain could ever come to fruition.
A lock of hair had fallen rakishly over his brow. She swept it away tenderly, love for him beating strong and sure in her heart.
“I don’t want this to end,” she confessed.
“Pamela.”
She knew the tone in his voice. Knew what it meant.
“You’ve swept into my life so unexpectedly,” she explained. “I never thought to love again. To want a life with another man. But I do. I want to be with you.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You would give up everything for me? Your elegant gowns, your balls, your dinners, your shopping trips?”
Did he not believe her capable of such a sacrifice? For she knew she was.
“None of those things make me happy,” she told him fervently. “They aren’t you.”
Something in his expression shifted. Hardened. “I make you happy?”
She smiled up at him, running the backs of her fingers over his rough, beard-stubbled cheek. “You cannot see for yourself?”
“I made you weep mere moments ago.”
He was being stubborn. “It was not you who made me weep. Would you consider it, Theo? Consider running away with me to the country? We could be happy there. We could be together.”
