“Not only that.” She expelled a breath. “I was worried for you…out of my mind with fear that I might lose you.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “You are not going to lose me, Evie.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
Out of nowhere, a dam burst inside her, and she couldn’t hold back what she’d feared she might never have the chance to say. The regrets that had consumed her while she’d kept vigil by her husband’s side.
“I haven’t been a good wife to you. I’ve said horrid things?—”
“We both have. That happens during a row. One says things one comes to regret.”
“I didn’t mean it,” she blurted. “The awful thing I said about…about losing our babe. I don’t know why it happened. I’ve asked myself over and over again, but I still don’t know why, and I refuse to believe that nature would intentionally be so cruel. All I do know is that I wanted our daughter. Oh, James, I wanted her more than anything?—”
She didn’t know when she began sobbing. Or how James had the strength to pull her into bed and tuck her against him. Yet lying in the shelter of his arms, she felt safer than she’d ever been, even as the grief she’d buried surged like a storm. It whipped through her in a rage of tears and shudders even as James held her tight.
When her tears finally slowed, she felt as wrung-out as a rag.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest.
“Don’t you dare apologize for your honesty.”
Beneath her ear, his heartbeat went from steady to thundering, and she raised her head. His eyes were blazing—and, she was stunned to note, wet.
“I want the truth, Evie,” he said tightly. “You don’t have to hide things from me, no matter how bad they may seem. In fact, the worse they are, the more we need to share the burden. Did you think I didn’t grieve our little girl? Did you think that I wouldn’t understand your pain—that I didn’t share in it?”
She thought back to his reaction—to that period she’d shut out entirely because it had been too painful. She let it all come back: how full of expectation he had been for the birth of his heir. Being James, his exuberance had taken the form of preparations. He’d started renovating rooms for the nursery, interviewing nursemaids, and planning out an educational curriculum that spanned from birth until the day their child graduated from Oxford, his alma mater.
When the blow came, he had gone…quiet. He had put a halt to the projects. He’d tried to console her, but she’d been so consumed by grief and guilt that she’d pushed him away. Physically and emotionally, she now recognized. She hadn’t done it on purpose; she’d simply gone numb. While she’d gone through the motions, she hadn’t been truly present—as if a part of her had floated away.
Moreover, her husband had always been a pillar of strength. She hadn’t considered that he might have needed comfort himself. Seeing the sheen of pain in his eyes, she realized that she’d mistaken his equanimity for lack of feeling.
“I’m sorry that I pushed you away.” She touched his stubbled jaw, her voice quavering. “I didn’t mean to do it. I think I…I was so wrapped up in my own sorrow that I failed to see yours.”
He took her hand, kissing her palm before placing it over his heart. Feeling its strong and steady rhythm, she snuggled closer.
“It was a painful time for both of us.” His admission was raw and worlds away from the polished and aloof god she likened him to. “I wanted to comfort you, but I didn’t know how. Simultaneously, I was wrestling with my own demons. I kept ruminating over what I did wrong—what I could have done to better protect you and our babe.”
“There was nothing you could have done.” Aghast at the unfair burden he’d taken on, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. The physician said that…that such things happen without rhyme or reason. There was nothing you—or anyone—could have done.”
“And yet.” His gaze held hers. “The heart…it is not quite so logical, is it?”
She swallowed, feeling transparent beneath his scrutiny. James had an uncanny ability to read her. It was as if he knew she felt responsible for the loss of their babe, although he did not know the cause. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—share with him her reasoning: that the death of their babe had been punishment for her sins. But she could give him a part of the truth.
“No, it isn’t.” Her voice trembled. “I…I carried her, James. I would have given my life to protect her, but I failed.”
“You didn’t fail, sunflower. Neither of us did. We did our best, and there will be other chances.”
His tenderness filled her with breathless hope.
“Will there?” she whispered.
“Without a doubt. You have my word, sweetheart.”
Cupping the back of her head, he brought her mouth to his. The kiss soothed like a balm and stirred like a promise. She let herself sink into it, into the succor and seduction of his strength. Their mouths clung and explored, their hunger reignited by their new intimacy. Desire drizzled like hot honey over her senses. Beneath her, she felt the virile leap of his response, and it made her blood burn.
She was so lost in passion that she didn’t hear the door open.
“Evie? We heard voices and wondered if James?—”
