Bloody hell!
He tore himself away from her with a frustrated growl. Her breaths came just as harshly as his. As much as it hurt, he made himself step away and add distance, to ignore the imploring look in her still-damp eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Unable to find the right words – unwilling to try – he turned away and started back toward the inn without her. He’d been prepared to risk his career for her, to cut ties with anyone who’d not accept her, to live in seclusion if that was what was required for them to be together. He’d been one step away from considering marriage. Until she’d pledged herself to the husband who didn’t want her – who’d never wanted her, based on how little she knew about kissing and making love. She’d wasted her youth on that man and would keep on wasting her life. James set his jaw and continued to walk. He refused to stay and watch.
18
Wilhelmina couldn’t move. When James had offered assurance, she’d wanted to explain herself – to let him into her confidence so he’d understand her situation. But she’d muddled her words, started in the wrong place, and made things worse.
He’d drawn his own conclusions, had painted George as the villain and her as a fool. And when she’d tried to correct him, he’d no longer wanted to listen.
As shattered as she felt watching the man she loved walk away in anger, she knew it was probably for the best. Considering his values, the weight he placed on proper conduct, integrity, and respectability, she could never be more to him than a brief affair. Wilhelmina had to be mad to suppose he would ever consider a lasting attachment with her.
Expelling a heavy sigh, she started back toward the inn. She’d known life would be challenging for her after the divorce. The wretchedness she experienced now was as unsurprising as the regret that caused her heart to limp along with sluggish beats. Happily ever afters belonged to other people. She and James never stood a chance, because what it eventually came down to was that she’d been a married woman when they met. Only George’s death would have let her remarry while retaining her reputation.
She shuddered and chastised herself for allowing such a thought to surface. Even though she might never see him again, he was her dearest friend. She loved him and could not imagine a world without him in it.
“Did you and Mr. Dale quarrel?” Cynthia asked that evening when she came to meet Wilhelmina in the private supper room she had procured.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re in here while he’s made himself comfortable in the taproom.”
Wilhelmina gestured for Cynthia to have a seat, then poured her a glass of red wine before taking a sip of her own. “I took your advice and tried to tell him the truth, but it came out all wrong and now he thinks I’m in love with George.”
Cynthia gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Eyes dancing, she stared at Wilhelmina who promptly frowned. “It’s not funny.”
Cynthia shook her head, then nodded before choking out, “It is a little funny. In aComedy of Errorssort of way.”
“I suppose,” Wilhelmina agreed with some reluctance. She gave her daughter a weak smile. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“You ought to correct his mistake,” Cynthia said. A serving maid arrived just then, allowing a brief reprieve in conversation while mother and daughter placed their orders.
“What would be the point?” Wilhelmina asked once the maid was gone.
Cynthia’s eyes widened. “The point, Mama, is for him to know how you truly feel. Even though Michael disapproved of me not telling him my secret sooner, and in spite of the fact that he’s chosen to break things off, he knows I love him just as I know he loves me.”
“And doesn’t that make it harder, knowing you love each other but that you cannot be together unless he’s willing to give up on being a father?” When Cynthia didn’t respond, Wilhelmina said, “I fell in love with Mr. Dale and I believe he fell for me too, but it will be easier for him to walk away and move on if he believes my heart belongs to another. Especially since he’ll never choose me anyway.”
“You don’t know that, Mama.”
“I do.”
“But, Mama, if you care for him, surely—”
“Let’s not discuss this further,” Wilhelmina said. She was exhausted by all the powerful emotions she’d experienced since that morning, from passion, to love, to hate, and pain. “It’s pointless to ponder that which will never be. Instead, I would suggest we set our minds to getting you back into London society. If you can find a good man who’s a widower with children in need of a mother, perhaps you can still build a happy life for yourself.”
Cynthia didn’t look the least bit convinced, but Wilhelmina was certain this would pass. Cynthia’s heart was raw at the moment, but once she accepted reality and set her mind to finding a more appropriate match, Wilhelmina believed she would move on. Of course, her connection to Wilhelmina might remain an obstacle, though Wilhelmina was sure this too would change with time, provided she stayed away from London.
“Have Mrs. Lawson and her daughter not come down yet?” Michael asked when he plopped down into a chair at James’s table.
“They’re in that supper room over there,” James said, raising his gaze from the paper on which he wrote just long enough to jut his chin at the back of the taproom.
“And yet you’re here,” Michael said. He seemed to hesitate before asking, “Should we not join them?”
“No.” James went back to his writing.
