He opened and shut his mouth and she waited for him to argue. To demand. To refuse. But at last he simply nodded slowly. “I understand, Diana. I understand why you can no longer bear to be in the same space as me. I won’t stop you. It would be unfair to do so. But won’t you wait until tomorrow to go?”
She stared at him. If she waited for tomorrow, she might wait another day, and another. She might let herself be swept up by this man and all the things she’d secretly come to hope for. If she’d learned anything from her father’s pragmatic view of grief and loss, it was to ride away from both as swiftly as she could.
“No,” she said. “That would not be wise.”
He seemed to buckle and caught the back of the closest chair to maintain his stance. Then he nodded. “Very well. I’ll have one of my footmen accompany you back to your home. He will help you light your fires and see that you are safe.”
“You needn’t—”
He moved forward. “Please let me have that, Diana. Please.”
She caught her breath at the desperation in his tone. Pained and so very real. It felt so real. She wanted to trust it. She couldn’t.
“Fine.” She turned her back to him. “Let me gather my things, will you?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “Of course. I’ll make the other arrangements.”
She knew he hesitated, standing at her door for too long before he left her alone. When he did, she collapsed to her knees, covered her face and cried. For what she’d believed and hoped for. For what she’d lost. And for what she’d never had at all.
Lucas’s hands shook as he watched his servants place Diana’s very few things up into the carriage that would take her home. Far away from him. The “footman” he was sending to help her was actually one of Stalwood’s guards. He’d given the man strict instructions to stay and watch the house, watch over her.
It was the only way he could give her what she needed. The only way to let her go because she couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. No one’s fault but his own, and yet it felt like his entire being was under attack.
When he turned, he found her standing behind him. She had changed from her pretty gown, back into her plainer clothing, and yet she looked more beautiful to him than she ever had.
“That’s all of it?” she said, her voice barely carrying.
He thought she was asking him, but it was Jones who answered as he entered the foyer from behind Lucas. “Yes, Miss Oakford,” he said coolly. “That is all. May I do anything else for you?”
“Leave us,” Lucas whispered, for he could not dare speak harshly or he would scream.
The butler frowned and did as he was told. Slowly, Lucas shut the door and faced her. This was their last moment alone. Perhaps their last moment ever, and he could think of nothing to say. Not when she stared at him like she didn’t know him at all.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, and the words felt false. Like they were an excuse, when he had none.
She nodded slowly and let out a small sigh. “I suppose you didn’t. You are who you are, Lucas. And your duty is important to you. I know that.”
He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to shout it from the top of his lungs until she believed him. And yet he saw how self-serving that would be. It was a way to manipulate her. To try to erase the damage he had done with his lies.
And she deserved better.
She moved forward, and he stiffened as she reached out to him. But she didn’t slap him, though perhaps he deserved it. She didn’t demand she be set free, back to a life that could not include him.
She reached up and cupped his cheek. She stared into his face, and for a moment all the harm he’d done was gone. She was Diana again. His savior, his light, his life.
“Lucas, don’t—don’t let any of this push you from your future,” she whispered.
He wrinkled his brow. “You are determined to save me still?”
“I suppose I’m a fool, but yes.” Her fingers traced his cheek gently. “You’ve run from your life for a long time, because of mistakes that were not your own. But you’ve been brought back here, to your friends and your home and a future that you once let be stolen. I would hope that perhaps this will keep you from running again.”
He let out his breath. “If you would want me to try to make this life, then there is no way I couldn’t grant you that boon, Diana. I owe you that. I owe you much more.”
She leaned up then, her lips coming to his. Everything in him wanted to drag her close, to claim her with the kiss she granted, to force her to feel what he had stolen from her heart. But he didn’t. Somehow he just let her brush her lips to his, feather-light, like a butterfly’s wings. And then she was gone.
“Goodbye,” she said, reaching past him for the door.
“Goodbye,” he whispered in return, that one word like a sword being stabbed through his heart. He watched her leave his home. Watched her leave his life.
