Then the dam broke.
Her words poured out, voice low at first, but rising with each deliberate beat:
"You decided you liked me. You pursued me. You proposed to me. Married me.
Then you changed your mind.
You exiled me. Punished me.
Because you chose to.
Then—when you finally learn the truth—you decide you want me again.
So you force me into your home. Parade our daughter around as if she'd always been wanted.
But you never even considered the possibility of a child after our wedding night.
I am nothing more than a plaything to you. Yours to discard. Yours to reclaim.
That is the truth you do not want to face."
"Abigail," he said, his voice thick with regret, "I was hoping we could spend this Season finding our way back to each other. That we might begin again. That we could still build the life we once dreamed of—before I ruined it."
"Well, if that is what you want, I'm sure it will happen," she retorted.
"Because as for what I want? What I truly want?
I wish you had never found us at Bramblewick.
That I'd never had to set eyes on you again."
She drew a breath, steady but cold. "If it pleases Your Grace, I'd like to retire. I have a headache."
"I don't want you to feel forced into anything," he said quietly. "I only hoped to show you—through my actions—how sorry I am. How much I love you. Of course, you may go to bed. Would you like an escort?"
"I'm sure I'll manage. Good night, Your Grace."
She turned for the door.
"I love you, Abigail," he said behind her. "All I want is to show you—with my words and actions. I know I broke something precious. But I need the chance to prove I can mend it. Not just for me. For Emmeline. For you."
He paused. "You deserve more than an apology. You deserve to feel whole again. And if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make that happen."
She said nothing.
But her fingers tightened on the doorknob before she slipped into the corridor.
Upstairs, she let her maid undress her in silence. She dismissed the girl early, changed into her nightgown, and padded barefoot to the window.
The stars over London were fewer than in the country, but they were still there— distant and cool.
She stared up at them for a long time, replaying Jasper's words in her mind.
She still didn't have an answer.
But for the first time in a long while, she found herself wanting one.
Chapter 39
