“I’m thinking that I’ve created this lovely little play in my head where everything was going to end well, but I see now that it won’t.”
“You know I care for you—” he started but she cut him off.
“Do you? Will you also care for her? The woman you will call wife? And what of your children? Don’t they deserve your complete attention? You must understand, Gavin, I was married. I’ve been the wife of a faithless husband—”
“Wait,” he said. “You cannot compare the marriage you had with my arrangement with Leonie Charnock. We barely know each other. She is an heiress, comes from a good family and—” He paused as if not knowing what else to say, so Sarah helped him.
“And is a good breeder. Because she is young, healthy.” Dear Lord, as the truth of their conversation was sinking in, she felt as if her heart was being ripped in two. “Why does it hurt to speak those words? In fact, the pain is so great, I want to double over, and yet I can’t. I’m caught in a web of my own making. I knew better than to let down my guard. I knew.”
“Sarah,” he started again, taking a step toward her, but she placed her palm flat against his chest.
“I’m in love with you, Baynton. I love you. And instead of the joy those words should bring, I’m crushed because how can I be so untrue to myself?”
She would have run then, but he caught her before she could flee. She tried to push away. He held her fast, ignoring her struggles.
“Sarah, listen to me. I love you, too.”
She shook her head. He mustn’t. He couldn’t. If she believed him, she would be trapped forever.
“If it could be another way, I would do it,” he vowed.
She did not want to hear this.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Can you not understand? I love you. I can’t live without you.”
Hours ago, if someone had told her that he would be saying these words to her, she would have considered herself the most fortunate woman in the world. Now, they struck her with fear.
How could she leave?
How could she stay?
Placing both hands on his shoulders, she pushed, and he let go. She stumbled back. For a wild second, she looked around her at the house she had started to think of as her haven, and realized he had been what had made her feel safe. All of this was a shell without him.
He approached again. His arms came around her and this time, she did not fight. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. “You,” he repeated. “Whatever happens in my other life, you are the one I value. The one I cherish.”
His other life.
She realized her own foolishness in believing she was his only life. Eventually, others—perhaps not his wife, but certainly his children—would take her place in his heart. The mistress was always expendable. Every fool knew that.
At last, she understood her mother.
Never before had Sarah felt so fragile in Gavin’s arms.
She accepted his kisses but made no move to return them. Her response alarmed him. This was not the Sarah he knew. She was giving up on him, on them.
He needed her to believe that he would always be there for her. Then she would stay with him.
Slowly, he became more purposeful in his kisses. He knew what she liked. In spite of herself, he felt her respond and he could have sighed his relief. Instead, he swung her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom.
She held on to him, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
In the darkness, they undressed as they had countless times before. Sarah was kissing him now with a fervent passion, as if she, too, did not want to let him go.
He laid her on the bed. Their bed. He could not imagine her not being here. He lived for the moments he was with her like this.
Her body opened to him. Gratefully, he slid into her. Nothing felt better in his arms than his Sarah. His lovely, vibrant Sarah.
Gavin began moving, wanting this to be good for her, reassuring her in the most intimate of ways of the depth of his love for her. Whatever he could do to honor her, he would. It was that simple. She held his heart—
