Amelia’s heart lurched. What was he saying and why was she so terrified to hear it? It took a few more seconds before his words penetrated her foggy thoughts and she understood. He wanted more from her than just physical desire or nothing. He wanted to love her and marry her—not for her brother’s sake but for his own. And love and marriage were two things Amelia had thought she’d never have after her first season, and she’d accepted that. Men had seemed inclined to want her for her money more than for her heart, so she’d built a wall around her heart. She’d given up on the notion of marriage so completely it sounded utterly foreign to her now. But... if she were brave enough, could she claim his love for herself, in spite of it all?
Did she deserve his love, after how utterly selfish she’d been?
She wasn’t certain she did, and now it made sense. He wanted to leave to protect himself.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Graham watched realizationwash over her face, followed by fear. Exactly as he suspected. She did not feel the same as him, and that’s why this could never be. He wouldn’t make love to Amelia when she had no intention of becoming his wife. He loved her. Once he had her, he’d never be able to let her go.
He stood, turning his back to her. In a whisper of fabric, she was at his back, hugging him from behind.
“I’m sorry, Graham.”
The words tore at him. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do. I didn’t think about you, not the way I should have. I’m selfish.”
He wouldn’t disagree. “Consider it over. Tomorrow is a new day. We can begin again. But this time, we’re going to do things properly. No more hiding Alston, no more secrecy.”
She sniffed and let him go. “How can we explain the lies we’ve already told?”
Damn. He’d forgotten the tale they’d spun. “He returned late this evening, injured. He never made it to Stirling. Will that suffice?”
“It’s another lie.”
He ran his hand through his hair as he stopped at her door and turned to face her. “One more won’t hurt. We’ll maintain our pretend engagement for now until Alston is completely recovered, then you’ll throw me over.”
She frowned as she turned to him. “I’ve hurt you. I’vebeenhurting you. How can you be so calm?”
He wanted to comfort her and assure her that his pain was minimal, but he wouldn’t lie about his feelings anymore. For his own sake, their relationship could never be the same again. He would have to slowly distance himself once Alston was better. He couldn’t stand to be in her presence as nothing more than a friend or a guardian. It was his turn to be selfish to protect his own heart.
“Goodnight, Amelia,” was all he answered. He slipped out of the room into the darkened hall, making his way to his own room. He wanted to get drunk, but he didn’t trust himself to stay away from her when inebriated, so he got dressed again and left. He’d return to the Den and let the whisky drown his sorrows.
A moment later—or was it a year?—Graham jerked awake as a firm hand gripped his shoulder and shook him violently. He blinked, losing his balance on his chair and hitting the floor with a grunt.
“Look at him. Pathetic.” A gruff voice spoke before stomping away.
A blurry figure leaned over him. For the life of him Graham couldn’t see through the gritty film covering his eyes or remember where he was. Nor could he defend himself.
Water splashed on his face and he coughed, rubbing his eyes. The world cleared into sharp focus and he winced.
“Good morning,” Tristan Chase said from a squat at his side.
“It’s morning?”
“Half past six. I suppose you’ve heard the news. I wasn’t keen to believe it, but seeing you here like this confirms its validity. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Graham swallowed. His tongue was too dry and thick to function. Bile rose in his throat. Had he heard right?
Mr. Chase held out a glass of water. Graham pushed himself to a sitting position and took an eager sip. “Who’s dead?”
Mr. Chase cocked his head and frowned. “Lord Alston. It’s all over town that he is believed to be dead.”
Graham shook his head, his thoughts fumbling with the information. “Bloody hell, who would say that?”
“Many people, some claiming to have heard it from someone associated with his man of business. It was the talk of the town all last evening. I’ve tried to have the information verified by my contacts, but I’m still waiting—”
“He’s not dead!” Graham stumbled to his feet. The room spun, but he remained standing. Who was saying Alston was dead? He had to get to the bottom of it. If word spread... the aunt, the cousin, they’d be knocking down Amelia’s door.
