“I didnotseduce Helena.” Lysander clenched his fists. “She seducedme. Drugged me. Or rather, that nurse of hers did. I swear, the woman is a witch, with her potions and herbs. She put something in my drink that night, which made me lose all sense of—”
“Good Lord.” Catherine’s laugh held no trace of humor. “I confess, I was not sure what I expected you to say in your defense, but it wasn’t something as implausible– as utterlyridiculousas that! An apology for making a complete fool out of me might have served a little better. Not that I would have accepted that either. But instead, you’re actually attempting to lay the blame at your dead wife’s feet, which is cowardly and contemptible in the extreme. Especially since the poor woman is no longer here to defend herself. The truth is, you were attracted to Helena from the start, and do not dare to deny it. I can still remember the way you looked at her. You werealwayslooking at her.”
Lysander gasped and raked a hand through his hair. “If I showed interest in Helena, it was because my gut told me something was amiss, not because of any attraction to her. I had a feeling she was not as she seemed, that behind that beautiful façade was a tainted soul.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth, I swear. And it turned out I was right. Helena was not what she appeared to be.”
A tear escaped and she hastily brushed it away. “And yet you married her!”
The sight of that tear, and the anguish in Catherine’s voice, tore through Lysander’s heart like a blade. “Yes, Cat, I married her.” He threw up his hands in despair. “Given what hadsupposedlyoccurred, what else could I do? But I made it very clear that she would be my wife in name only. Not that she cared. She got what she wanted, after all, which was the title.”
Catherine huffed. “So, you seduced her and then made her suffer a loveless marriage.”
Lysander groaned. “Christ help me, I didnotseduce her, and if she suffered at all, it was only because of what she herself created. I will admit, without remorse, that I did not love her, but I was never willfully cruel. She wanted for nothing, had the freedom to do as she pleased, and indulged herself accordingly.”
“None of which matters to me, Your Grace,” she said. “What happened between us is no longer of any consequence. I put it all behind me long ago.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t care what you believe,” she countered. “I don’t even know why you’re here, telling me this.”
Because I still love you, Catherine. Only you. And if, as you say, what happened between us is of no consequence, then why…?
“Why have you never married, Cat?
She flinched, and he instantly regretted the question.
“Please forgive me,” he added, quickly. “I should not have asked.”
“No, I’ll tell you why. When you…” She closed her eyes for a moment and drew breath. “When the man I loved betrayed me, I swore I would never again put my heart at risk. And I never have. To this day, I answer only to myself and am quite happy. So, if it is absolution you seek, you may have it.”
He winced. “That is not why I’m here.”
“Then whyareyou here, Your Grace?” she demanded, her voice still edged with emotion. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to turn back time.” Lysander scrubbed a hand over his face. “God help me, Cat, I want things to be as they were between us.”
She gasped. “Have you completely lost your mind? You must have, if you think for one moment that I would evenconsiderentertaining such an idea. You abandoned me, Lysander, without a word. You tossed me aside for another and made me look like a fool. I couldnevertrust you again. Notever, do you understand? I’ve heard enough. I must go. Please step aside.”
At last, she used his name, though not in the way he needed to hear it. He could almost taste the bitterness of her words. But he wasn’t quite ready to let her go, and held out an arm, blocking her way. “No, Catherine, wait. I just…” He shook his head, inwardly cursing the desperation in his voice. “I have never stopped loving you. If you’ll just think about what I—”
“Let mepass, damn you!”
Jaw clenched, Lysander dropped his arm and stood back. With a swish of skirts, Catherine all but ran from him, leaving her familiar floral scent in her wake. He inhaled it greedily and closed his eyes against the deluge of memories it invoked. Moments later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a sob, followed by the solid slam of the door.
In truth, he could hardly blame Catherine for not believing him. His explanation did sound ludicrous. Desperate, even.If only. Ah, those two cursed little words. If only his father had not fallen ill, and Lysander had stayed at Myddleton. If only it hadn’t snowed. If only he’d refused to see Helena and her wretched nurse when they’d turned up at Malvern.
His presence here today had all been for naught. If anything, he now regretted that as well. Any hope he had for a reconciliation with Catherine had just been snuffed out like a candle.
He headed for the door and opened it. Ahead lay a trail of footprints in the snow, his and Catherine’s, overlapping. Her latest footprints led away from the orangery. Away from him. He wouldn’t follow them this time. There was no point. Tears stung his eyes as a familiar sense of desolation washed over him.
He headed around the back of Sallingford, toward the stables, intent on summoning his valet and his driver. If he left now, he’d be at the coaching inn at Uttoxeter by nightfall. Tomorrow, he’d return to Malvern and resume his reclusive lifestyle.
He’d become used to it, after all.
*
