“Ten years.”
“But you don’t look a day over thirty,” she blurted.
Grinning, he said, “I’m actually nine and twenty.” He must have noticed her confounded expression because he quickly explained, “I had just turned nineteen when I married. Claire died a few months after.”
“How did she die, if you don’t mind my asking?” She knew it was an intrusive question. If he refused to answer, she would understand, but curiosity compelled her to try and find out more.
“There are some twisted people in this world, Leonora. Claire met her demise at the hands of one of them when her...her...” He fell silent and all Leonora could hear was him breathing roughly, as if struggling for composure. “Her wantonness caused her to offer herself to the wrong man.”
“Dear god.”
He turned his gaze swiftly toward her. “You must excuse me for speaking in such crass terms, but I cannot think of any other way in which to describe what happened. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” The cruelty he’d endured at the hands of a person he’d pledged his life to was more than any man should have to endure. It was too tragic to contemplate, too awful to even consider, but it did provide her with some important insight which in turn made her regret the way she’d behaved with him yesterday. “When I suggested we share a bed, I wasn’t...that is to say...I hope you do not think that I—”
“You may rest assured, Leonora. There is no similarity between you and Claire. I know you were merely trying to be polite and considerate, for which I thank you, though I would urge you not to repeat such an offer to any other man ever again, unless he happens to be your husband. One may eventually take more than you are prepared to give.”
The reprimand was there, subtly intertwined with his appreciation. She could not blame him. Not when experience had taught him that women were easily seduced by any man showing an interest. But that was not the case with her. Other men, like Mr.Young, had made their intentions clear, but she’d wanted more than the prestige or wealth they had to offer. She’d hoped for all the complicated feelings Philip instilled in her heart.
So she said the only thing she could think to say. “Repeating the offer is out of the question since it is unlikely I’ll ever be spending the night alone with you ever again.” Her heart fluttered wildly against her breast as she spoke, but she wanted him to know that he was the only man who would ever prompt her to propose such a thing.
He stared at her, his lips parting as though he meant to comment, but then the carriage rolled to a stop and Philip looked out. “We’re here.” He opened the door and stepped down while Leonora took a series of deep breaths in an effort to steady her nerves.
What on earth was she thinking to confess such a thing and burden him with the knowledge that she wanted more than what he was prepared to give her?
Selfish. Stupid. Completely unnecessary.
She clasped the hand he offered, ignored the simmering heat that swept through her as soon as they came into contact, released him, and went to greet her sister, who’d come out onto the front steps of her home. “It is so good to see you again,” Leonora said as she gave Caroline a tight hug.
“You too. I hope the journey was not too tedious.”
“I had Mr. Dalton for company. Didn’t realize he was coming here as well until we arrived in Sheffield.”
“You made it, I see,” Lockwood said as he too came to greet them. He gave Leonora a quick embrace before going to shake Philip’s hand. “Shall we go inside and get you warmed up? You must be exhausted. Here, let me take one of those bags.”
They bustled inside where the butler stood ready to help them off with their outdoor clothing. It was still quite chilly in the foyer, but a lovely fire burned in the parlor, and the tea that was swiftly brought in warmed and soothed Leonora’s body.
“Are you hungry?” Caroline asked.
“Famished,” Leonora admitted. “But I’m also extremely tired. Do you suppose I might have a tray brought up to my room once I’ve finished my tea?”
“Of course.” Caroline looked across at Philip. “How about you? Would you prefer the dining room or a tray?”
“A tray will be fine.”
“Perhaps you’d like to join me for a drink in the library first?” Lockwood asked.
Philip smiled. “Certainly.” He and Lockwood both stood.
“If you’ll excuse us, ladies,” Lockwood said. “I believe we’ll bid you both a good evening.” He crossed to where his wife sat and bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you upstairs in a bit, my darling.”
An ache sliced its way through Leonora’s heart.
The words, spoken with immense tenderness, expanded the emptiness in her soul until it gaped with tremendous yearning. She glanced at Philip and started a little when she found him watching her with a pensive expression.
"Until tomorrow," he murmured softly.
Leonora nodded. "Good night."
