“I…” he started, then stopped as he rose to his feet and began to pace. He went to try again and coughed.
“Yes?”
“Eliza, I need to tell you… that is, I want to explain…”
The words tangled in his throat once more. All his usual eloquence, the charming facade he’d perfected over years of navigating society, was useless here. Worse than useless. Because this required something he’d never been good at. Raw, painful honesty.
Morgan took a shaky breath. “I was afraid. I am afraid. Have been, ever since…” He broke off, started over. “When I saw that blade at your throat, when I thought I might lose you, it terrified me. Not the physical danger, but the realization of how much power you had over me. How completely you’d undone every defense I’d spent years building.”
Eliza’s expression softened fractionally, but she said nothing. Just waited in silence.
“I’ve spent my entire adult life keeping people at a distance,” Morgan continued, the words coming faster now. “After Cecilia, I promised myself I’d never be that vulnerable again. Never give someone the power to destroy me. And then you…” His voice cracked. “You walked into my life disguised as a maid, and somehow you slipped past every wall, every defense, every carefully constructed wall I’d built around my heart.”
“Morgan…”
“Let me finish. Please.” He took another breath. “I told myself our marriage was practical then. A solution to a problem. That I was helping you, protecting you, but maintaining appropriate distance. But that was a lie. I fell in love with you, Eliza. Completely. Irrevocably.”
Tears were streaming down Eliza’s face now, but she didn’t interrupt.
“So, I did what I always do when I’m afraid,” Morgan said, his voice breaking. “I ran. I pushed you away before you couldleave me. I convinced myself that distance was safer than vulnerability, that loneliness was better than the risk of being hurt again.” He shook his head. “I was wrong. So devastatingly wrong.”
“You were cruel,” Eliza said, her voice shaking. “You made me feel like loving you was a burden. Like I was something you had to tolerate rather than someone you chose.”
“I know.” The words came out as barely a whisper. “And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Eliza. You deserved better. You deserved honesty and courage, and instead I gave you cowardice disguised as self-protection.”
“You broke my heart,” she said simply.
“I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends for that if you’ll let me. I am at your mercy.” Morgan took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached for hers. She let him take them, but her fingers remained limp, unresponsive. “I love you, Eliza. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. And I know I’ve given you no reason to believe me, no reason to trust me. But I’m asking for a chance to prove it. To spend every day for the rest of our lives showing you that I choose you. That I want you. That loving you isn’t a weakness, it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done. I am willing to beg if you require it.”
Eliza was quiet for a long moment, thick tears still streaming down her porcelain face. Morgan waited, his heart in his throat,afraid to breathe lest he shatter whatever fragile possibility might exist between them.
“Do you know why I’m leaving?” she asked finally.
“Because I hurt you. Because I made it impossible for you to stay.”
“Partly.” She pulled her hands from his, and Morgan felt his heart crack. “But also, because I finally have the freedom I’ve been fighting for. No parents forcing me into a marriage I don’t want. No Whitfield threatening my life. No more running, no more hiding. I can go anywhere, do anything. Live the life I’ve always dreamed of.”
“You should,” Morgan said, even though the words felt like tearing out his own heart. “You deserve to see the world, to be free.”
“But what’s the point?” Eliza’s voice broke. “What’s the point of freedom if I can’t share it with you? What’s the point of seeing Paris or Rome or Vienna if you’re not there beside me?” She pressed her hands to her face. “I love you, Morgan. Even after everything, even when I hate myself for it, I love you. And I don’t know how to stop.”
“Don’t ever stop,” Morgan said desperately, reaching for her again. “Please, Eliza, don’t stop loving me. I know I don’t deserve it. I know I’ve done everything possible to destroy what we had. But if you can find it in yourself to forgive me, to give me another chance.”
“How do I know you won’t run again?” she demanded, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “How do I know that the next time you’re afraid, you won’t push me away?”
“You don’t.” The admission was painful but necessary. “I can’t promise I won’t be afraid. I can’t promise I’ll always be brave. But I can promise that I’ll fight the fear. That I’ll choose you over my cowardice. That I’ll never again let my fear of losing you drive me to push you away.”
“Words are easy, Morgan.”
“Then let me show you.” He cupped her face in his hands, desperate for her to see the truth in his eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Every day, for the rest of our lives. I’ll be the man you deserve. The husband you need. I’ll?—”
Eliza surged forward and kissed him. It was desperate, messy, tear-stained and nothing like their usual kisses. It was real. Raw. Honest. Morgan kissed her back with everything he had, pouring all his love, his regret, his desperate hope into it as their tongues met. His hands tangled in her hair as hers clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer until they were impossibly close.
“I love you,” he gasped between kisses.
“Show me,” she whispered against his lips. “Don’t tell me. Show me.”
Morgan swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently among the traveling clothes. His hands trembled as he undressed her, as he traced every curve and hollow he’d memorized and then tried so hard to forget.
