“I thought you loved her.”
Again he nodded before turning back to Ebba. With anyone else, even his mother, he’d simply ignore the question. But Anthony was the reason he made it back to English soil. He owed him his life, such as it was.
“I’m confused. If you love her, why didn’t you tell her the truth?”
He forced himself to focus on Anthony’s words and not on Mariel. “BecauseI love her.”
His friend crossed his arms. “I’m not sure I understand. Or is that it? You don’t think she’d understand your injury.”
He slipped the jewel into the fob pocket of his pantaloons before giving the horse a pat on her rump and exiting the stall, brushing by Anthony, forcing him to move. He closed the stall gate before facing his friend “No. Mariel would understand. She’s the most understanding person I’ve ever met. But I can’t let her waste her life on me. She can still marry another and have the children she always wanted.”
“How do you know she wants that?”
He shook his head and started toward the open doors to the outside. “I know her. I know what she’s dreamed of. She told me. I can’t take that from her.”
Anthony fell into step beside him. “People change. It’s been at least four years since you last saw her, hasn’t it? You’ve changed.”
He gave Anthony a stern look. “I went to war. I was shot. I saw…I witnessed atrocities committed on both sides. She was safe here. Safe to attend balls, choose her favorite dress, race Zephyrus over hill and dale at Thornwood.” He shook his head. “How much could she have changed?”
“She was married and lost her husband. Maybe she had children.”
He headed out of the stable. “She doesn’t. I inquired about that before I came home. I wanted to know in the unlikely event that she found me. Which she did.” He stepped into the warm sunlight, shading his eyes with his hand before choosing the pathway back to the house. His brother’s death had wreaked havoc in his life. Not only had he lost his best friend, but he’d gained a title, something he’d never wanted, except once, when he’d first met Lady Mariel Mabry.
“She had no groom with her. She must feel comfortable riding between your properties.”
At Anthony’s observation, he looked at him. “She probably left him in the wood. She always has a groom with her. She is the epitome of a lady. She would make someone the perfect wife.” At his own statement, his insides twisted around like a gnarled tree. Returning his attention to the path, he defended his actions once more. “She’s wrong if she thinks we would suit each other now.”
“She had one thing right though.”
He stifled a snort. Mariel had everything right. She was perfect. A woman of kindness, love, and manners who loved horses as much as he. There would never be anyone else for him, even if that were a true possibility. “Which of her many comments do you refer to?”
Anthony walked past him and halted before the steps of the side door, blocking his path. “I’m referring to her comment that if you had sought her out when you first arrived back in England, you wouldn’t have to contend with the score of women who keep flocking to your door.”
“It isn’t a score.” He barely kept the growl from his voice as he reached around the man and pulled open the door that led into his study. “Maybe a dozen, but they are persistent. Besides, I’m perfectly happy avoiding them all.”
Anthony followed him inside. “I’m sure you are, but what of your mother? Even my mother didn’t have to be nice to so many upper crust ladies on a daily basis and she owned a shop.”
“Bloody hell.” He reached for the decanter of whisky, the need to feel it burn its way down his throat too strong to ignore.
His friend’s hand covered the glass. “I thought you didn’t want to slip into a stupor ever again.” Anthony’s face changed, sympathy showing in his gaze. “Are you in pain?”
He yanked the glass out from under Anthony’s hand. “Yes. I just told the woman I love to stay the hell away from me and broke her heart for a second time. Why am I still here? Why didn’t I just die like I was supposed to?” He hated that his voice rose.
Setting both the decanter and glass down on the side board, he strode to the fireplace and looked up at the portrait of his brother. “And why is it that everyone I loved is gone except for the woman I love, who I can’t have, and my poor mother, who is caught in the middle of my pain?” He gripped the mantel, the solidness of it like a loaded canon in a battle.
Anthony clasped his shoulder from behind. “Nothing can take away the pain of your losses, but maybe it’s time to stop hiding.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed his denial. The man had been the voice of reason so many times in the last three years. His words were worth listening to. “What do you suggest?”
“I suggest that you call on Lady Mariel tomorrow and offer her an apology for your behavior.”
He opened his eyes and stared at Anthony as if he too had become but a ghost. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Anthony let go of his shoulder and moved toward the door. “Yes. You did.” Then with no further explanation, the man slipped from the room.
There was no possibility that he would go to Silver Meadows and apologize to Mariel. Having her hate him was for the best. She’d always been too good for him, not simply in social status, but also in character. Now the gap between them was even wider.
But as he remembered her outrage, he shuddered. He hated seeing her so angry and hurt. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his pantaloons and pulled out the large garnet. Looking at it now, it reminded him of his own dried blood. Quickly, he dropped it back into his pocket. Whatever it meant to him now, it didn’t lessen what it meant to her. Anthony made a valid suggestion. No matter how much he didn’t want to see her again, he needed to apologize for propriety’s sake. At his decision, a new plan formed.
