She nodded, but when they took their places, she kept adjusting, moving, wringing her hands. Her nervousness was clear and his stomach twisted in knots.
She shifted and gripped her hands in her lap. “Did you…did you see Callum?”
He wrinkled his brow. “Callum?” he repeated. “Why would I see him? He and Valaria are to be out of town a few days more.”
She drew in a short breath. “They came back today. I assumed he would come to you, close as you are.”
“They came home early?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because of my accident.” She pursed her lips. “Apparently they didn’t actually travel far from London and word spread to them in the village where they were staying. I knew that this would cause a stir. She came to see me this morning,” Etta continued, now absently worrying her sleeve. “And we talked about you. I wanted you to know that, to not keep it a secret.”
“You talked about me,” he repeated softly.
“About this…” She motioned between them with a shaking hand. “About everything that happened between us since they left London. I wasn’t fair to you yesterday, Theo. I realized that when I talked to her.”
“You were entirely fair,” he said. “I know what happened with your father hurt you. And I know that you already doubted my intentions. You have a right to your feelings.”
Her expression softened. “Yes. You are always willing to let me have them. It is remarkable.”
Hope sparked in him at those words. At the look on her beautiful face. At the fact that she was here at all. Hope terrified him. “Did she tell you to come here?”
“Yes.” She wrinkled her brow. “Well, no. Though I suppose she would have if I hadn’t come to that conclusion myself.”
More hope, and he tried to keep his expression neutral. “Then please, whatever you needed when you came, let me provide it.”
She drew a ragged breath. “I realized, after some great consideration, that I had to come here and speak to you directly, rather than run circles around myself in my mind. Rather than deny you the opportunity to tell me the truth as you wished to yesterday. So please, Theo. Tell me about the night my father and yours tried to match us.”
He drew a ragged breath of his own. “You don’t know how much I hoped you would allow me to explain to you one day.” He rubbed his hands along his thighs, trying to maintain purchase when his world was spinning. “I told you that my father was trying to push me. Trying to control me.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
“Before you and I had our talk in the gazebo, hours before, your father and mine met me in my father’s study. They said they were going to arrange a marriage with you. And yes, I did tell them both that I’d rather die than marry you.”
She flinched and he rushed to continue. “They were foolish words said by a foolish young man who pulsed with rage at his father. A boy who resented everything he had been denied when it came to affection or autonomy. I lashed out and said those horrible things that ultimately hurt you, but they were never about you, Etta.Neverabout you. They were about my father and wanting to cut him. To deny him as I had been denied.”
She nodded slowly. “I can understand that. I can.”
“But you aren’t certain you believe me?” he pressed. When she was silent for too long, he couldn’t take it any longer. “Then believe this: I love you, Etta.”
As he had expected, that sentence changed her. Her eyes went wide and wild, her hands began to shake and she stared at him for what felt like a slow-motion lifetime.
“You knew I was going to say that to you before,” he said gently. “It cannot be such a surprise.”
“Knowing it and hearing it are two different things.” Her voice broke a little.
“Then I’ll say it again so it sinks in. I love you,” he repeated, and God, but he felt free in finally letting those words out into the world, letting her hear them. Whatever happened next, whether he won her or failed, at least he would know he had been brave enough to risk his heart. “And I know I’ve bungled everything. All I can do is hope that you’ll allow me a chance to fix it.”
* * *
Bernadette was shaking, her mind racing as she tried to fathom what Theo was saying to her. Was it real, was she dreaming? She pinched herself lightly and the pain made her think it was real.
So she fought to reply to his statement. “You haven’t bungled anything, Theo.”
His nostrils flared and she realized he waspainedin that moment. Those were regrets, from a man who usually was so breezy that it was impossible to think that he could have such feelings.
Only she knew him better, didn’t she? She knew him down to his core. That was something she’d never wanted to pretend away.
“Ihavebungled it,” he said. “Perhaps ruined it, though I hope not. And I did it not just when we started this affair, but a long time ago. I did it that night on my birthday when we stood in the gazebo together.”
