He’d damn near spilled his bleeding heart.
“You weren’t talking about Ollie just now, were you? You were talking about… us.” Lydia’s hands gripped above his knees. Seeing the lace of her gloves, her delicate hands resting on his thighs, had him… floundering. “Please, Jeremy. I need to know.”
No one else could make him feel this way, and certainly not as easily as she did, with just a simple touch. If she moved her hands just a few inches higher… He closed his eyes.
“I didn’t want you to have to decide. It would not have been fair.”
“Decide what, between my brothers and… myself?” She squeezed hard, her fingers digging into his muscles. “Tell me, Jeremy. Tell me so that I can understand. Tell me so I can either fix whatever it is that’s caused you to hate all of us or move forward without you.”
“You can’t fix it. No one can fix it. Don’t you think that if anyone could, I would have done that already?”
But perhaps he could tell her some of it. He could tell her just enough so that she could forget about him—forget about the past.
He drew in a sharp breath. He’d let go of her four months ago, and it had hurt like hell. Watching her find someone else… The sharp breath evolved into a painful ache.
“I never wanted you to have to choose between your family and me.” He kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at her. But that was all he would say. It was all hecould say.
Because the reason had to do with so much more than just himself. It had to do with the honor of his family, the betrayal of her brothers, and most importantly, his brother’s memory.
He’d been livid after hearing Lucas’s suspicions. Arthur would never commit treason.His brother had not been a traitor.
Shame and guilt attacked him for even considering it.
DamnLucas. Damn Blackheart.
Damnit, Arthur!
“But why…?” The bewildered pain in her voice had him staring into her eyes, glistening with confused tears, making them look more emerald than blue.
She was completely separate from all of those reasons, and yet they had changed the course of her life.
“It has nothing to do with you.” His voice caught.
“But, Jeremy. You are wrong.” One of those tears overflowed and trailed down to the corner of her mouth. “It haseverythingto do with me—with us.”
He sat frozen, loyalty to his brother warring with his heart. Because she was right. Their future together had been shattered by Lucas and Blackheart’s betrayal. By her brothers’ deplorable accusations.
Arthur was his flesh and blood.His brother would never…
She held his gaze even as she continued to cry, the tracks shining on her cheeks. He wanted to kiss away those tears so desperately. The desire nearly broke him.
No longer able to bear it, he tore his gaze away, staring blindly out the window instead.
“Please, Jeremy.”
“Your brothers…” It was all he could say. “I can’t?—”
“But it is my brothers you are angry with. It isn’t me that you hate.”
“God, Lydia, I could never hate you.” Quite the opposite.
Was he telling her too much? Was he making this worse than it already was?
“You told me to stay away from you.” A hint of accusation flashed in her eyes. Deserved. Well deserved.
“You need to… allow me to complete the renovations for the orphanage. Allow me to do this for you while you attend balls, garden parties, and river parties. We… Us. Cannot happen. An arrangement between the two of us is impossible.”
He’d said it. So, why didn’t he experience any relief?
