He remained silent, waging an inner war over whether to confide in her or not. She was remarkably easy to talk to as he’d found out in the days following Roslyn’s death.
“I’ve done it again, Roberta.”
“Done what?”
“I’ve gotten involved with a woman I can’t have,” he murmured.
Her face twisted in sympathy. “You love her.”
He nodded, looking down at the glass on his desk and fingering the rim.
“And she doesn’t return the sentiment?”
“She says she loves me, but you know as well as I do, that changes nothing. We can’t be together any more than Roslyn and I had a future.” He longed to call back the bitterness in his voice, but it spilled out.
“I’m very sorry.”
He sat back in his chair and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I want to ask you something. Something I’d like an honest answer to.”
“Of course. Anything.”
He sat forward again pinning her with his stare. “If I had come to you and Roslyn’s father and asked for Roslyn’s hand, what would you have said?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked hastily away. She rummaged in her reticule for a kerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Sniffing delicately, she gripped her reticule with both hands. “I don’t know, Gray. I just don’t know. In my heart, I think you would have been turned away though it shames me to admit. But I’d like to think that another alternative could have been reached, one that didn’t have you and Roslyn racing to Gretna Green.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I know I’ve said it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey just how sorry I am and how much I regret what happened.”
“I know you are,” she said softly. “I too am sorry for what was taken from you. I’ve always regretted that my husband told such a dastardly lie to lure Roslyn back home. He preyed on her devotion to me. And now because of him I will never see her again.” She turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Collecting her reticule and putting away her kerchief, she rose on shaky feet. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see how you were faring.” She turned to go but stopped and slowly turned back around to face him. “You look terrible, Gray. If you love her then fight for her. Don’t give up so easily. Go to her and don’t let anyone stop you. There are no guarantees in life. It may not work out for you, but can you live with yourself if you let her go so easily?
“Fight for her, Gray. If you want her, fight for her.” She turned and hurried from the room leaving him to stare after her.
He glanced down at the glass in his hand and hurled it across the room, listening in satisfaction as it shattered against the wall.
Coward.
No, he hadn’t fought for her. He’d been far too accepting of the fact he could never have her. Too accepting.
He didn’t feel badly for refusing to elope to Gretna Green, but he could have told her he loved her and that he wanted a life with her. Could have told her that he’d do anything to be with her, even throw himself on the mercy of her father. But he’d done none of those things. He’d turned her away and broken her heart.
He didn’t deserve her.
Things scattered over the floor as he angrily swept his arm across his desk. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with his palms.
He couldn’t give her up. Not without a fight. But could he live with the results if he couldn’t convince her father to grant his blessing? One thing was certain, he could not continue living as he was now. He was dying a little more each day without her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gray squared his shoulders and knocked at the Penbury residence. Determination infused his every movement. He didn’t relish the ensuing scene, but he wasn’t leaving without Jenna.
The butler opened the door and peered inquiringly out.
“Grayson Douglas to see the Earl of Penbury,” Gray bit out.
The butler’s eyes widened and the faintest smile flickered across his face. “Right this way, sir. The earl has been expecting you.”
Expecting him? What the hell was that all about? He hadn’t time to ponder the butler’s odd statement before he hurried back into the house. Gray followed him in, stepping around the trunks and valises that littered the foyer.
