Eliza allowed her fingers to trail down his arms before lacing them with his around her waist.
“You have scars upon scars. How many times?”
“I am—was—my father’s heir. It was important that he teach me the weight of my duty. I needed a lot of reminders. He stopped after I grew large enough that he thought me capable of fighting back. Then he merely threatened Bella.”
Benedict’s fingers played with her own. The sight made her smile even as his words broke her heart. “And the new ones?”
“You were my ultimate failure. He couldn’t let that stand. They’re healing rather slowly—keep ripping open.”
“Because you raced to London to warn me?”
She heard his swallow. “Yes.”
“You had no plan to ruin me when you returned.”
“No. I just… needed you to be safe.”
Eliza steeled herself for her next question. “Why didn’t you ruin me? That first night in the garden—I was already fallen. If you had been a little louder, a servant would have seen. Or after your match? I would have gone with you anywhere.”
“In the garden, I didn’t know it yet, but it was already too late. And after the match—our kiss? That was the moment Iunderstood I couldn’t go through with it—that I couldn’t hurt you like that. In truth, I had probably failed the moment you called me dull-witted during our first dance.”
“Why?” she asked, though she knew the answer in her heart. Eliza could not resist tracing her fingers along the length of Benedict’s arm to cup the cheek not buried in her shoulder.
Benedict turned to drop a gentle kiss on her palm. As it always had, it set her heart aflutter. “Because I love you.”
“You do?”
His hair brushed along her cheek as he nodded. “For a long time, I thought I was incapable of love. It was a fantasy for other, foolish, people. But you— Every touch of your hands, every kiss has healed some piece that was broken inside. And once you’d put enough of me back together… Well, it turns out I am capable of loving you, quite desperately in fact, though not as you deserve.”
“Benedict,” she whispered.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away—not ever, in truth. But, Eliza, when I thought you were…” His arms, still banded about her, tightened as he pressed his chin tighter into her shoulder.
She could take it no longer. Eliza pulled away. Benedict’s sound of protest was instant.
She spun and threw one leg over his, then the other, before scooting closer. His hands fell to her hips, clutching her tighter.
He dipped his head, seeking the crook of her shoulder—the place she was now beginning to understand was his—where he felt safe. But she needed to see his eyes. She caught his cheeks between her palms. Benedict met her gaze, his open and guileless.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me?—”
“No,” she croaked, shaking her head. “The other part.”
His eyes softened, searching for something in her own, before he spoke.
“I love you. No deceit, no tricks, no ulterior motives. Not because you’re an easy target—you’re quite the opposite—but because you make me feel safe and seen in a way I didn’t even know was possible. And if you ever decide to give me a second chance, I will spend every breath ensuring you feel the same.”
Eliza’s gaze dropped to Benedict’s full lower lip. Her own longed to be kissed by him again. Needed more.
“Eliza?”
“Yes?” she replied, trailing her gaze up to meet his.
“Tell me, please, do I have any cause to hope? Have I lost your affections forever? Is there any way to prove to you that my feelings are genuine?”
“Benedict, you nearly died to save my father. A man you swore to destroy.”
