“Last year.”
His words struck her as though he’d actually laid hands upon her and delivered a blow.
Last year. Before she’d fallen in love with William. Before it had become too late. She nearly got up and left, except she had to hear more, no matter how painful.
Keeping her voice steady, she said, “You should have let me know, too, even if you didn’t feel as though you could come see me.”
His gaze remained on hers. At last he shook his head.
“I didn’t think a letter was the right thing to do. I couldn’t imagine you finding out without me here to—”
“To what? Watch my world fall apart?” Rose snapped, then pursed her lips. She hadn’t meant to say that, and certainly not with the level of hostility her tone expressed, yet that was most certainly what was happening.
“No. That’s not what I wanted.”
They fell silent a moment, and it was in silence that a man, presumably Joseph, brought in two plates of food. Rose thought it might as well have been a mound of dirt on her plate for the little appetite she had.
Like the chef, the man clapped Finn on the back before leaving. Rose couldn’t imagine a man whacking William on the back with such familiarity. Of course, she couldn’t imagine William withholding the simple truth from her that he was alive. William seemed so in love with her that he’d find his way back to her no matter what.
“I am not hungry to tell you the truth,” she said. “I was hoping we could speak plainly.”
“We always did,” Finn said, and he used the side of his fork to cut off a piece of one of the twin crepes in front of him.
She couldn’t help looking down at her own plate, with two delicate crepes slathered in a creamy sauce and sprinkled over with parsley. It smelled divine.
“There’s chicken inside,” Finn told her, chewing thoughtfully, “and celery.”
Rose’s stomach turned at the notion of even tasting it. In truth, it seemed indecent to enjoy food while thinking of her unintentional deception toward William.
“I will tell my fiancé when next I see him,” she said.
“Tell him?” Finn prompted.
“That you exist.”
“I see. Then what?”
“Then he’ll ask what I intend to do.” Rose felt more wretched when she thought about it.
Finn popped another forkful of crepe into his mouth.
“Which is?” he asked, his words making their way out of his mouth around the food.
Again, out of sheer frustration, she felt the urge to slap him. How could he calmly sit and eat? He had given her no indication of his intent.
“You are being insufferable.”
Laying down his fork, he looked as if she’d delivered him a nose-ender with her fist.
“How can you say that? I’m giving you the freedom to do whatever you want, just as I always did. You never wanted to tell your family about us, and I didn’t make you. If you don’t want to tell William Woodsom that I exist, then don’t. If you do, then do so.”
Rose’s temples were starting to throb.
“This is a different situation entirely. If I don’t tell William, then he will expect me to marry him. Clearly, I cannot do that.”
“If you want to, you can,” Finn said quietly. “I won’t stop you. We can get a divorce, very discreetly, and no one has to know we were ever married.”
“You said yesterday that you weren’t offering me a divorce.”Hadn’t he?
