She drew back, clearly surprised. “What are you talking about? They were abandoned.”
“Edward and Mathilda, yes. But both had kin eager to take them in.”
He didn’t mention the generous yearly allowance he’d offered.
“You found their relatives?” She spoke in a small, soft voice that made her sound about twelve.
“It wasn’t difficult. A few enquiries was all it took.”
She blinked, staring at him. “And then you got ‘rid’ of them.” Her voice broke, and something inside him twisted—coiled—cutting off his breath. “How could you do that, Gregor? How could you send them away without letting me say goodbye?”
He shuffled a little, unable to completely ignore the discomfort provoked by her question. She might not be able to fault him for what he’d done, but maybe she could for how he’d done it. “I thought it best to prevent a scene. What purpose would it serve to wrench weeping children from your arms? A clean break was easier on everyone.”
“Is that what you think? A clean break? At least they would have known I loved them, which was more than I ever knew. My father left without telling me, and let me tell you, there wasnothingclean about it. What must they think? How could you do that to them? How could you take out your anger at me on them?”
“My decision had nothing to do with you.” It had to do with him. He hadn’t known whether he could go through with it if he’d had to watch. It was better for everyone this way. Those children didn’t belong here, no matter how much she wanted them to. “You knew this would happen at some point. I told you from the start.”
Her eyes shimmered with angry tears, but she couldn’t argue with him. “And what of Pip? Was he returned to his kinsmen as well?”
This time he didn’t flinch or feel even a twinge of guilt. “There was no need. His mother was close at hand.”
She looked aghast. “You sent him back to his mother? How could you do that? God knows what she’ll make him do this time.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you were aware of the boy’s subterfuge?”
“Pip told me everything, but it is you who don’t understand. His mother forced him to do what he did, and then threatened to take him away if he didn’t give her money.”
Whether what she said was true didn’t matter. “You had no claim on them, Cate. Any of them. They didn’t belong to you.”
“I love them. It might mean nothing to you, but it means everything to me.”
“Yes, I know exactly how much your love means.” He didn’t hide his sarcasm. “You might have trapped me into marriage, but I won’t take three children from their real families to satisfy some girlish fantasy you have of the perfect family.”
He might have slapped her, so jarring was the shock of pain. But she didn’t crumple or fall apart. She just stood there staring at him, her silence somehow challenging and condemning at the same time. “I didn’t trap you, Gregor. I didn’t send for John.”
“So my brother is lying?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t say that. But I did not send Pip to fetch him. I don’t know why he did.”
“Convenient that Pip isn’t here to explain for us.”
Her cheeks flushed angrily. “Whose fault is that?”
They stared at each other in the cold, clear light of day, emotion coiling dangerously between them. And something else. Something else he wanted to deny. The fierce, frenzied attraction that didn’t differentiate between love and hate. It flared and crackled between them. Even knowing what he knew, he wanted her still. So intensely that his hands itched to wrap around her arms and haul her against him. To cover her body. To punish her for making him fool enough to care. How could she have done this?
He could almost hate her for it. He straightened. Hardened. “So the fact that I woke and found you gone, and then shortly afterward a crowd appeared in your room, was a coincidence?”
She held his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “Aye.”
He didn’t say anything but clenched his jaw until his teeth ached.
“I’m asking you to trust me, Gregor. To have a little faith in me. I’m telling you the truth.”
He hesitated. For one long heartbeat he actually hesitated. She sounded so sincere. He replayed the conversation in his head, heard her feeble denial mixed with guilt, heard her boasts and damning words, and John’s condemning ones.
Looking at her, he could concede that her plea was heartfelt. He didn’t even doubt that she loved him. But it wasn’t enough. He’d been here too many times before. He had no faith in any of it. “You ask for too much.”
He pretended not to see the disappointment brimming in her eyes, but he felt each tear that slid down her cheek like acid in his chest.
