“Are you certain?”
“Perfectly so. I just…um...realized something.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve quite forgotten to ask Hannah to buy a thank you gift for Mr. and Mrs. Winterly,” she said in a rushed attempt to explain away her sudden reaction. “After all they’ve done, it would be horrid of me to leave without giving them something in return.”
“They don’t strike me as the sort of people who would expect any recompense.” He placed a fresh compress over her left eye and began wrapping her head with a clean bandage.
“Nevertheless, I’d be the worst house guest in the world if I didn’t offer them anything in return for their hospitality.” The idea had been inspired, spoken as a means by which to distract him from the real reason she had gasped. Now that it was out there though, she realized it was important. “Perhaps a jasmine for their garden?”
“I don’t believe that’s necessary.”
“How irritatingly unhelpful,” she muttered, allowing a touch of frustration to slip past her defenses.
He seemed to latch onto it with the energy of a field marshal eager for battle. “Forgive me for daring to voice my opinion.”
“Your opinion is not required in this instance.”
He tied the bandage with rough movements and stepped away. “In that case, I’ll leave you to your own company since that seems to be the only one of interest to you at the moment.”
“Coward.”
“Frustrating chit,” he snapped.
She wanted to throw something at him, but since she couldn’t see, it was useless trying to locate an appropriate item before he was out the door. It slammed shut behind him, jarring her insides so hard the anger within her froze.
What on earth had just happened?
Louise tried to think, to analyze her frayed emotions and pinpoint the spot when her conversation with Mr. Berkly had gone completely sideways.
Her heart thrummed back to life. Of course. It had happened immediately after she’d realized she might be falling for him in a way that was sure to complicate her life. Developing deeper feelings for him - the sort of feelings that broke past the bounds of friendship - would threaten her future, her reputation, and the relationship she’d formed with him in case he didn’t feel the same way. And what of Mr. Fairbanks? She’d been so certain of her love for him, and yet, when she thought of him now, she felt absolutely nothing compared with what she felt for Mr. Berkly.
Oh God.
Was it possible she’d never loved Mr. Fairbanks at all?
Surely her heart would not alter course so easily if she had.
A rough breath squeezed her lungs. She’d wronged Mr. Berkly today because of her own confusion. Her lack of understanding had made her unreasonable. Worse, it tore at her heart because, as afraid as she’d been of Mr. Fairbanks not having an interest in her, she was far more scared of Mr. Berkly’s potential disinterest. No one, she realized with shocking force, had ever mattered to her as much as he did. Not because he’d given her hope and not because he had the skill to give her sight, but because of who he was beyond being a surgeon.
He was a man who’d sacrificed his future happiness for his sister’s, a man who’d turned his back on every comfort he’d ever enjoyed in order to do the right thing. When Louise’s father had warned him away, Mr. Berkly had met the challenge with a deep sense of duty. When he’d made a mistake, he’d admitted it right away, had comforted her in the weeks since, and shown an impressive desire to better himself by learning a language that would give him access to additional medical knowledge.
What was more, she could not fathom having to part ways with him once he deemed her fit for travel. The fear she’d initially felt over having to face her parents when she returned to London was nothing compared to the all-encompassing dread she experienced when she considered a life without Mr. Berkly by her side.
She cared for him.
Deeply.
And she owed him an apology.
So when he returned later that day, she pushed her way past her pride and said, “I’m sorry we argued earlier. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have criticized your opinion.”
“It’s of no matter,” he said, his voice as distant as she’d ever heard it.
“I beg to differ,” she told him softly.
“And you are welcome to do so.”
