“You don’tknow me,” she repeated. Although hadn’t she just been imagining that she might be falling in love as well? “You can’t give up your dreams.”
“I wouldn’t have to give them up.”
“It’s impossible. After Brighton, Sir Bickford-Crowden will invite you to tour the Continent with him.” Peter moved his mouth as though he might argue with that, and she shot him a disbelieving look. “You know it is likely. I won’t take your future away from you.”
“Come with me.” He was so full of optimism. For the first time since they’d begun this affair, she felt much, much older than him.
It almost sounded possible. But she would become a burden. And after they tired of one another, she’d return to England even more of a fallen woman than she was now.
His proposal had been made impulsively. He hadn’t meant it.
“It’s too soon.” She clutched the sheet to her chest, needing to get out of that hotel room before she gave in to what he wanted. She wanted the fairy tale with him. Of course, she did, but it would be a mistake. Even if he abandoned his music, he’d want children. She’d failed Baldwin in that regard. She couldn’t bear to know the depths of that disappointment again.
He sat up on his haunches, his skin glowing almost bronze in the candlelight. “I love you, Miranda. And I think you love me.”
“It wouldn’t matter.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Your dreams are right before you. I would hate myself forever if I kept you from following them.” Because of course, she loved him. How could she not love him?
He stilled, staring across the room with an unseeing gaze. “I’m rushing you.”
Miranda trailed her fingers down his chest. She was going to miss him dreadfully. How did a person go about falling out of love?
“The apprenticeship ends December twentieth.” He broke into her thoughts.
He seemed to be working something out in his mind, his eyes thoughtful, his jaw clenched. “I’ll meet you here, in this room, on Christmas Eve. If you don’t come, then I’ll accept that you don’t love me. If I’m not here, you’ll prove yourself right. But if we both come, then we’ll know…”
“We’ll know what?” Because he couldn’t come… he would be preparing to go on tour.
“That you and I are destined for one another.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the romance of it. He was so beautiful, so talented, so inherently good and untarnished.
“I won’t come.” She didn’t want him thinking he owed her anything. She didn’t want him to feel guilty when, while sitting with his family on Christmas Eve, he realized he’d forgotten all about her.
“I will come.” And in his words, she heard something she hadn’t expected—certainty. “I’ll reserve this room, number eight, for Christmas Eve of this year.”
How could she deny him this? Such a foolish promise, though, might make their goodbye less final. To imagine this attachment they’d developed wasn’t on the cusp of breaking forever.
Would making such a promise to him cause her more pain in the future?
She wouldn’t come.
She would not.
But what if she did? And he didn’t? She couldn’t bear that.
“Very well,” she said.
Peter stuck out his arm and clasped her hand in his. But whereas she thought he was going to shake it, to seal their bargain, he instead pulled her back onto the bed.
Because the future held only a glimmer of hope.
But they still had tonight.
Remember Me
Miranda didn’t believe him. Peter could see it in her eyes, in the way she seemed to draw into herself.
He could teach her how to trust, and he would. And he would also teach her to embrace possibilities.
