“I suppose it is,” she agreed.“Thank you for rescuing me from Friedrich.For risking your life to bring me home.”
“I would do it again,” Jonathan vowed.“A thousand times over.”
And then, because they were standing there in her bedroom and it was the last time he would ever see her, he asked, “May I kiss you?”
In response, she nodded and rose up on her toes as he leaned down.He refrained from putting his arms around her again because he would find it impossible to release her if he did.But their lips met, hers warm and soft under his.
He’d never experienced such sadness while kissing.It was a strange sensation, indeed.As he drew back, he couldn’t resist grasping her full lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently.Her sweet moan was echoed by his own, both of them sounding like regret and longing inextricably blended.
“Lise,” he sighed.
“Go,” she whispered, tears making her eyes shine more brightly.“Please, go.”
She was right.There was no good that could come of dragging out this goodbye or being caught in her room.At the door, he glanced back.She was touching her mouth with her fingertips, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Be safe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
“And you be happy,” he told her.
Cracking open the door, seeing no one, he slipped out and closed it softly behind him.Walking like a man in a dream, he returned to the attic and awaited his fate, which rested in the hands of Herr von Ostenfeld.
Chapter Nineteen
Lise awakened with a weight upon her chest, as though someone had placed stones there while she slept.The pale morning light filtering through her curtains offered no comfort, only the stark confirmation that the previous night had not been a dream.She had said goodbye to Jonathan last night.Forever.
Sensible.Practical.The only reasonable decision.
She repeated the words in her mind like a litany, yet they brought her no peace.Rising from her bed, she moved to the window and gazed out at the gardens below, seeing nothing.Her reflection in the glass showed a young woman who looked composed, calm even.Yet Lise thought her to be a stranger wearing her face.Inside, she was anything but tranquil, and her heart not only ached, it seemed cold in her chest.
A soft knock at her door made her turn.For a second, she imagined it would be Jonathan, just like last night.She would tell him how much she loved him.
“Come in.”
Her mother entered, her expression grave.Closing the door quietly behind her, she stood for a moment, studying Lise with an intensity that made her want to climb back into bed and pull the covers over her head for protection.
“He’s gone,” her mother said softly.“Your father had Jacob fetch the blacksmith just after midnight.Lord Bowen left with him before dawn.”
Lise nodded, her throat too tight to speak.Of course he was gone.That had been the plan.The sensible, practical plan.
Her mother crossed the room and took Lise’s hands in her own.“My dear daughter.I have eyes, you know.I saw how you looked at him.I know you wouldn’t have gone to Lübeck, risking everything, simply for ‘Henrik’s friend.’”
“Mama, please.”
“No, let me speak.”Her mother’s grip tightened.“I know what it is to care for someone and to have duty pull you in another direction.But Lise, you made the right choice.Your place is here, with your family, in your homeland.An English earl’s son, a foreigner who would demand you live in his world.”She shook her head.“We can’t even be certain the viscount would have been allowed to marry you, even if he had wished for that exact outcome.”
“I know.”The words came out as barely a whisper.“I know that, Mama.It doesn’t make it hurt less.”
Her mother pulled her into an embrace, and for a moment Lise allowed herself to be held like a child, drawing what comfort she could from her mother’s warmth and her familiar scent of lily and rose distilled water.
“Time heals almost anything.The pain will fade,” her mother murmured against her hair.“I promise you that it will fade.”
But Lise wasn’t certain she wanted it to.The pain was all she had left of him.And it would remind her that she and Jonathan had shared something special.If they hadn’t, then losing him wouldn’t hurt this much.
Her mother pulled back, smoothing Lise’s hair from her face.“Come down for breakfast when you’re ready.But stop by your father’s study first.He’ll want to see you.”
After her mother departed, Lise dressed sensibly, practically, for she was that type of person apparently.A simple day dress in blue with cream trim.She plaited her own hair, coiled it at the nape of her neck, and secured it with pins.Making her way downstairs, her every step felt as though she were walking through deep water.
Time heals almost anything, she reminded herself.And this was only the first morning.
