But he wasn’t going to stop trying to win her back. “Ineedyou. We need you. I was wrong to say we didn’t. Nothing works without you. Not the firm, not the house, not me. Every moment is just a fraction of what it would be if you were home. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. Whoever you need me to be, I’ll be it.”
His plea didn’t have the effect he’d anticipated. She stood and walked to the other side of the small clearing, putting as much space between them as she could, hands wiping at her face as she did so.
He stood, straining against the need to go to her.
“I don’t want you here, like this,” she said, gesturing to his outfit. “I don’t want you turning into something you’re not just to make me happy. Can’t you see how much damage I’ve already done?” She hugged her arms around her body as though she was trying to hold herself together.
The regret he’d felt over the past few weeks was tepid and shallow compared to what engulfed him as he realized she’d truly taken his hateful, shameful words to heart.
He covered the ground between them and gathered her into his arms, hoping that the feel of them holding each other once more brought the same sense of relief to her that it did to him. “No, sweetheart,” he murmured. “None of it was your fault. None of it. It was a series of situations that did not go our way.” His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her curls, breathing in the familiar scent of her.
“Everyone must hate me.” Her words were muffled as she pressed herself into his chest and sobbed.
He hugged her close, trying to shore up all the pieces of her. “No one hates you,” he whispered. “They all want you back. Ineedyou back. Princess, come home.”
She dragged in a few breaths, and her shaking slowed. She tipped her head back and looked up at him. Her eyes still brimmed with tears, but they held a flicker of hope. “Truly? You wouldn’t prefer just to take your old life back? The one where you didn’t have a wife upending everything?” Her breath hitched on the last note, a hiccup that snagged around his heart.
“Truly. My life needed upending. It was dull and lifeless and far too comfortable before you came along.” He pulled a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his coat and wiped it across her cheek, the tears soaking it.
She swallowed hard and took it from him, blotting her tears and wiping her nose. “You need to promise that you’ll throw this hideous outfit away.”
Relief spread through him, a wash of light across the shadows. They were going to be all right. He stepped back, twirling with every bit of peacockness he could muster. “This? I thought you’d love it.”
She smiled. That she was breathtaking was an understatement. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even with her eyes watery and her hair all mussed. He didn’t know what force had brought her into his life, but he was going to make damned sure he never risked losing her again.
She smoothed out the creases she had pressed into his jacket, her hand pausing over the gold thread. “I love parts of it. In isolation. Perhaps with a diamond stick pin.”
This was his Amelia. And God he was glad to have her back.
Despite the teasing, she was serious when she took his hand and pressed it against her heart. “I don’t want you to dress differently; I know you hate color. And you don’t need to make amends with the marquess. I can live without London.”
He tipped her chin and placed a light kiss on her lips. “No, you can’t. You love London. You love its energy. You love coming to horrendous parties like this. I don’t want you to give that up.”
“I haven’t loved it lately. My friends are awful.”
He chuckled. “In a city this large, I’m sure you can find some non-awful friends. And I’m sure I can find some men with whom I share some common ground.”
She tightened her arms around him, sighing into his chest. “It’s a deal.”
The moment was wonderful but incomplete. He had come to London determined to bare his soul, and there was still one thing left to reveal. The words caught in his throat. Giving voice to what his heart felt could make the night perfect or turn it sour. Right now, as it stood, they were happy. He didn’t want to jeopardize that. But he also needed her to know.
“I love you, princess.” The words came out with more assurance than he felt. His heart quickened in the silence that followed.
The interminably long silence.
Maybe she hadn’t heard him. Or maybe she had heard him and couldn’t think of a response. Maybe he should say it again, louder. Or not and pretend the words had never been said. Blood rushed through him, creating a pounding in his head that matched any noise his steam engines could make.
Just as he was about to apologize, to take it all back and urge her to forget it all, she looked up at him, reached on her toes, and kissed him. “I love you too,” she whispered. “Now take me home, please.”
Epilogue
Amelia hummed to herself as she watched the firm thrum and buzz below her. It had taken a year to get back to full production, but the work on the Duke of Camden’s locomotives was well underway.
She leaned back in the armchair Oliver had carried up to the mezzanine for her, gently stroking her belly.
“How did you even get up here?” Benedict asked as he climbed the stairs.
Amelia flushed. “Oliver might have helped.” After she’d paused on the fourth step and come to a dead stop on the eighth, the foreman had sighed and lifted her like she didn’t weigh the rough equivalent of a baby whale.
