“And now you would do the same to Dora? To me? If you kill him, you’ll be taking my father. I have no relationship to him, but still, it is wrong. It will hurt us, Mars. Can’t you understand?”
He took a step back, then another. He faced the bookshelves, his hands going to his hips as if she had completely exasperated him.
She edged off the desk. The papers he’d been writing on fell to the floor. She picked up her dress and quickly tossed it over her head.
He made her feel ashamed—and she shouldn’t. She loved him enough to fight for him. “I had so much hope for us.”
His head lowered. She stared at his back, willing him to see reason.
“Mars—?”
He whirled around. “Clarissa,I won’t back down from this fight.”
“There isnofight.”
“No onecares what he does. He has been given a pass for countless crimes.”
“Icareforyou.”
“Yes, by trying to bend me to your will, much as my mother would—”
“Now that is unfair.”
“I must do this, Clarissa, and if you care for me, you’ll support my decision.”
“I can’t.”
“Because he is yourfather?” He practically spit out the word.
Clarissa stood straighter. “My father is Reverend Taylor. He was the man who guided me, who was there for me. He was the one who taught me that a sin like murder weighs on a man’s soul.”
“A duel is not murder, remember? It is an act of honor. That is what everyone said about my father’s death.”
“There is no honor in what you want to do. You’ve hounded the man, Mars.”
“I must. That is what just men do—we right wrongs. You weren’t there, Clarissa. You didn’t hold your father in your arms as he choked on his own blood. Even Reverend Taylor would agree with me.”
Clarissa looked down at herself, at the hastily donned garment, and felt shame. “I suppose I should be thankful that you didn’t know about my parentage before we married. It wouldn’t have happened, would it?” Her empathy was fading into disillusionment.
His response was to eye her coldly as if she had betrayed him. Well, maybe she had.
“You are so stubborn,” she said. “And wrongheaded.” There was a beat of silence and then she said, “I love you.”
He reacted as if her words caused him physical pain. The air was heavy between them, and then he started for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He stopped, frowned, and then said, “Toprepare myself. I meet him in a matter of hours, Clarissa.”
“If you go, Mars, there is nothing between us. I can’t have this on my conscience.”
“We will talk about this later—”
“No. I am asking you to choose me, Mars. If I’m not enough, then think of Dora. Please, I beg of you.”
He shook his head as if to say she didn’t understand, and then, he left.
She heard him charge down the stairs as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. And maybe they were. Revenge was obviously more important to him than anything she could offer... if she had ever mattered at all.
