“In the middle of the day?” Surprise tinted her voice. She assumed he would have been busy in his office, trying to work his feelings away.
She rushed up the stairs, making it to the third floor slightly out of breath, and when she arrived at his door, she gave a quick knock before letting herself in.
Instead of Robert sitting down with a book or lying in bed as she had imagined, he was throwing his fists into a sandbag, stripped down to his breeches as sweat poured down his face. His concentration was fierce, his eyes fixated on the heavy bag while his fists repeatedly pounded into it.
“Robert?” she whispered.
His fists stopped and his head jerked toward her. It was as if he could not register that she was there, and he only stared for a moment before his brow rose. “Louisa,” he said, his words strained.
Louisa glanced about the room, running a hand along her arm. This was his space, and she suddenly felt as if she were intruding. The confidence she felt as she ran up the stairs vanished, and timidity took over. “Are you all right, Robert? I saw the paper . . .”
“Ah.” His face fell. “So that’s why you are here.” He glanced back at the sandbag, throwing his fist into it half-heartedly.“Griffith apparently made some ill-concealed bets, and we were found out.” Another punch into the bag. “And then I found out he was having a secret relationship with my sister, of all things.” His fist smacked into the bag with full force, causing the cords in his neck to bulge.
Guilt washed over her. Robert had had to battle through all of this on his own for days while she was unaware in Tunbridge. All because she wanted to stop loving this wonderful man. How stupid and dense she had been.
She took a half-step toward him. “I’m so sorry, Robert. Truly I am. I wish I had been here to help.”
He glanced at her, his eyes hesitant. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” She nodded, swallowing past a growing lump in her throat, then took a quivering breath. “And I also wanted to tell you . . .” She paused and swiped at the corner of her eye, all while Robert watched her intently. “That I’ve changed my mind,” she said more forcefully. Goodness, where were these theatrics coming from?
Robert’s eyes traced over her, his uncertainty clear as he stayed where he was. “In what way?”
She stopped for a breath. “In that I love you . . . and I’ve come home.”
Robert’s eyes fluttered closed, and he pressed his brow to the bag as he gripped it to steady himself. His chest heaved once before he pushed back, then rushed over to her and pulled her close as his hands wrapped about her waist, drawing her to him. In a moment, his lips found hers, kissing her with unrelenting joy and agony. She watched him for a moment, his eyes pressed shut as he tipped his head this way and that, kissing her from every imaginable angle as if he was not sure she was real and might dissipate without a moment’s notice.
She had once done that very thing. But never again. While still afraid of what hurt might come one day, she was choosing to push past her fear and live her life.Theirlife.
Just as she closed her eyes to enjoy the bliss of his kisses, he pulled back.
“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He looked down at himself.
She only shook her head, pulling him back to her and kissing him again. His hair was damp about his neck, his body warm from exercise, but she didn’t care. This was the man who had torn down his walls for her, and she wouldn’t dare allow him to erect those very walls again.
Robert came back, pressing his brow to hers. “I cannot believe this is real. That you are here.” His hands roved over her hair, neck, shoulders, and back as if to assure himself.
She traced a finger down his chest. Her breath quivered as she inhaled. “I’m still scared, Robert.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow. “It’s all right to be scared, Louisa. It’s how we choose to navigate that fear that matters.”
She wove her fingers into his hair. “If only you weren’t so loveable, Your Grace.”
“Loveable, am I? You think you know me so well?” There was a grin in his voice.
“Yes. I know you.” She toyed with the back of his hair. “A man who appears crusty to the world but has the softest and warmest center I could ever imagine. A man who likes to take naps, has a clever tongue, is willing to learn new things, and can love deeper than anyone I have ever met. Who either falls asleep reading with my dog in his lap—glasses lopsided and falling off his face—or opens his windows to listen to the soothing wind outside.”
Robert nuzzled his nose into her hair and took a deep breath. “Tell me again. Tell me this is real.”
She smiled, pulling back to look him in the eye as she placed her hands against his cheeks. “This is very real. As is my love for you.”
He closed his eyes, pressing his mouth against her brow. “Say it again,” he murmured against her skin.
His need for assurance made regret pool in her stomach for all she had put him through. But she was more than happy to put his worries to rest. “I love you, Robert.”
“Louisa,” he said, her name a prayer on his lips, “I love you so much—I do not even know how to put it into words.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “It’s like an ache inside of me.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound very pleasant,” she said, laughing. “I hope over time it forms into a more enjoyable feeling.”
