“You are uncomfortable,” Mrs. Gillingham said, finally breaking the silence. “Is this because of what you told me about your family?”
He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said any of that to you. I would think a man pathetic for unburdening himself on a lady as I did.” No wonder no woman in London had more than a three-sentence conversation with him. He was a miserable person to be around.
Able to make out her form in his periphery, he saw her bristle and turn toward him. “It was not pathetic. It was human.”
“No. It was uncalled for and ridiculous. I hardly even know you.”
More beats of silence.
“Perhaps that is why you felt comfortable telling me.”
Leonard rolled his head toward her. “That makes no sense.”
“It does, actually. You cannot be vulnerable with those closest to you, being proud as you are, so you chose to share with someone you never expect to see again.”
“Only if I’m lucky,” he said on a breath.
“Well, despite your irritable attitude toward me, I will say that I understand you better now. All except one thing, that is.”
He waited, his heart beating harder. What would she ask now? He supposed it was not required of him to answer, and yet, he often found himself doing just that when he was with her.
“What’s that?”
“Why your feelings about your family make you wish to not marry.”
“I explained that.”
“No,” she corrected. “You explained why you do not have an occupation, but never expounded on why your brother being ill has made you wish to remain alone.”
His eyes quickly glazed over her face, the true interest in hearing what he had to say showing in her gaze. Why did she make him desire to be so vulnerable?
The answer crept up from within, as if he’d always known it was there but wouldn’t allow it to have a voice.
Perhaps because no one else has ever tried.
He admired her sincere gaze for another moment, savoring it long enough to remember. Once he spoke about his pettiness, he was sure he would never see it again.
“I do not wish to marry because it’s what is expected of me.”
“Is it not what’s expected of everyone?” Her words were gentle—soft. Even after he had humiliated her in front of that couple.
“Perhaps. I suppose it was just one more thing expected of me because Samuel cannot, therefore I must.”
The carriage jerked to a halt, causing Leonard to stop his musing. Good thing, since he would likely spill his entire heart out to this woman and truly look a fool.
“I will go inside. If you must contact me again, try and wait until a decent hour.”
“Wait.”
But he was already leaving the cab. The door to his home was ahead, its peaceful quiet and safety from these conversations beckoning him forth.
After he opened the door, he swung around to shut it.
There. Alone at last.
He turned, breathing out a sigh of relief, until he looked up and saw Mrs. Gillingham standing in his hall.
“How did you slip in?” he asked, his eyes wide.
