Gerald could accuse himself of being a complete imbecile when it came to reading the feelings of others, but even he could be quite certain that Arabella was angry at him.
“I don’t want you to go to Wales,” he said.
The moment these words left his lips, he realized he had again approached this wrong. He sounded as if he was forbidding it or something, that he didn’t want her to go because he wouldn’t miss her terribly.
“Is there a particular reason why you want me to cancel this trip to see my grandmother? It is a very proper reason to do so. My grandmother is very old, and I am visiting her before-”
“It is not a matter of propriety.”
Arabella took a deep breath. She seemed exhausted. He was exhausting her mentally, all because he was a coward, because he didn’t know how to express true feelings, because when others called him the Cruel Duke, he took those words to heart.
“I bought that place,” he tried, “because I wanted to have a place. A new place.”
“That is usually how new property works.”
“I wanted to have a new place for us.”
Arabella straightened her back, and her face melted into a neutral expression. And yet she was still reserved, still reluctant to drop her cold act towards him. Only now did he realize that he missed Arabella a lot. Not this Arabella, but the one that teased and joked and supported him in ways he never valued as much as he should have.
“I know you love the estate, and it will always be our home, but crazy as it might be, Cecilia was right. I do owe you a honeymoon.”
The look of disappointment on her face nearly killed him. She still thought that this was all about propriety, about his name and reputation.
If Gerald could do it all over again, from the moment he found that piece of paper his father had signed so many years ago that sealed his fate, there was only one thing he would never change. And that was marrying her.
But barging into her house, demanding she be given to him like some brute barbarian? Placing that three-night rule in what they had? Being this cold and distant? No. If he were blessed with a second chance, he would do none of those things but drop on his knees and beg Arabella to marry him.
“What I meant to say-”
“It would be awfully helpful if you stopped saying anything else except for what you really mean to say, Your Grace.”
He took one deep breath, cold sweat running down his spine. His hand rubbed his neck as if he were some sort of teenager in front of a principal. But it was now or never. Arabella was retreating emotionally from him. If this moment passed...
And yet he was still afraid. This was something he was not equipped for, something that he never imagined would happen to him, never wanted to happen to him. What if she said no? What if she saw him for who he truly was, and that was not enough for a woman like her? What if she knew already that he was not worthy?
But then another fear came over him, more potent, more forceful. A life without her. Without her light and laughter andbeauty and radiance in his life. And that seemed a far bleaker future than having to deal with a rightful rejection.
“I want you, Arabella. You. I’ve wanted you since the moment you ordered six different flavors of ice cream, since you made me pretend it was an old lady’s husband, every time you pushed and argued and stood your ground, every time you showed me compassion I did not deserve.”
Her eyes went wide and unblinking, and her jaw slightly dropped. If he were honest, that was more or less the reaction he was expecting, better than cold indifference anyway. Then, as his words started to sink in, she blinked as if to recalibrate with her reality, with that newfound input. And then he saw her breath coming in quick and shallow, as her mind was taken over by total disbelief, battling with something else.
He had probably made such a bad impression on her that she quickly decided that he didn’t mean a word of what he just said, or even worse, that this was some kind of ploy. She looked down and straightened her white gloves, swallowing hard.
“I am not sure I follow…” she said, with less bite and ice than before, but still…
“Look at me, Arabella.”
She didn’t obey him right away, just lifted her head and looked over his shoulder to avoid his eyes.
“I beg of you,” Gerald said. “Look at me.”
Gerald had never begged for anything in his life, but he thought that if he were to beg once, this was the time.
“Please, just look at me.”
Slowly, painfully, and obviously reluctantly, Arabella pinned her bottomless blue eyes on his. And even though it was not that look of love and adoration he was dreaming of, or even companionship and mercy they had shared, his heart settled under her blue gaze. She was here now, and now he had the chance to win her heart.
“I have been a fool,” he admitted. “I should have told you how I felt the moment I did feel it, but I didn’t even realize what that was until you left the house and I simply missed you.”
