“How might she do that?” I scowled.
“That is for her to decide. There are a number of things she could do to show him she loves him. And if my brother truly loves her, he will stop at nothing to win her back.”
Clarawouldknow what to do, but if James had thoughts on the subject, I wanted to hear them. “Do you have any ideas?”
He focused on my face again, and I felt my heart pound harder. How could he affect me with something so simple as a look?Never let him see how he affects you. I lifted my chin and looked him right in the eyes, willing myself to look confident.
“Ideas?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I swallowed. “Of how to show someone they are loved.”
“That depends on the circumstances. Clara would not do the same things that I would do.”
“Well, what would you do?” I was straying far from the root of my inquiry, but I was suddenly far more curious about what James would do to show his feelings than what my sister would do. She was predictable and romantic, but James was a complete mystery.
He was silent for several seconds. “I believe love is found in the small moments—in ways that are constant and repeated often. If I loved you, for instance…” Without warning he reached forward and took my hand in his. Unfortunately I had forgotten my gloves at home, and he had chosen my ugly hand. I cringed through my beating heart and told my hand not to shake. How could he bear to touch it?
“…I would hold your hand, like this, whenever you sat beside me, or whenever you needed comfort.” He was so gentle, so careful, as he held my hand where it fit so perfectly in his. His thumb traced the scars with the softness of a feather. When I looked at his eyes, the softness there was more intense than before, burning deep inside my chest. “I would share with you everything I have, every wish, every dream, every secret. Every hour and every kiss.” He was still holding my hand, but Irefused to look at his face again, so I just stared at our hands, where there wasn’t a set of green eyes saying things I didn’t understand.
“I would write you notes to convey the things that are hard to speak aloud. I would tell you how I adore you, and how my heart is yours. I would keep you close and protect you. I would try every day to whisk away your sorrow, and lighten your burdens. And I would remind you how much I love you if ever you doubted it. I would keep your heart very safe, if I was ever allowed to have it.” I heard him draw a breath, slow and heavy. “If I loved you.”
I took a brief glance at his face, trying desperately to hide the blush on my own. I was surprised to see the heartache flickering in his eyes, the muscle clenching in his jaw as he released my hand.
He managed to bring up a smile, to excuse every word for something less than they had really been. But there was something alive and real buzzing between us and I wanted it. His words rang in my head like a chant,If I loved you. He didn’t love me. The things he had said had been merely hypothetical, nothing meant for my ears or my heart.
“That sounds like a great deal of effort,” I said, trying to smile back. My voice shook. “It’s a fortunate thing that you don’t love me then.”
His expression faltered, and I saw in his eyes one more secret, one I knew he never intended to tell. I couldn’t decipher what it meant. I wanted to know it. I wanted to know everything about him, in fact. I wanted everything he had said he would do if he loved me. My heart ached as I realized it could never be mine.
He could never be mine.
This was not my place; this was not where I belonged. Mama expected better from me, and so did I. There was no time forridiculousness and false hopes. Besides, James had deserted love and I had forsaken it.
His jaw clenched again and he looked down at the floor. “But if Clara does love my brother and not his title and money, then she must find a way to prove it to him.”
I nodded and stood up, eager to escape the uncertainty in this room and in James’s eyes. I had accomplished what I came here to do. Almost. “Will you speak with him at least? Help convince him how perfect a match he and Clara are?”
James looked up wearily, smiling. “What a romantic you have become. I never would’ve expected it.”
I put a hand on my hip. “It is not for me, but for the sake of my sister.”
“Contradictory, to be sure.”
I frowned. “Kind.”
“Hypocritical.”
“Thoughtful!”
He grinned with amusement. “Nothing short of ridiculous.”
“I did not come here to be mocked.” I lifted my chin and stepped farther away from him. “I came here to help my sister, regardless of how it might make me appear. Now, I thank you for your time, but I must be going. Good day.”
I showed myself to the door and walked out into the snow. The storm had calmed considerably, but I still shivered, pulling my wet shawl back around my shoulders.
“Charlotte.” James’s voice came from behind, and I turned to see him jogging in my direction. My heart leaped.
“I can’t allow you to walk home alone.” He caught his breath, dark brows drawn together in a scowl. “It’s not safe.”
