Silence fell, a deep understanding settling in the air between us. I was fairly certain neither of us had ever uttered an apology to one another unless forced to do so by our mother. And then, it hadn’t been sincere. The cracks in our relationship had grown deeper over the past few years, but something in our words just now had begun to mend them.
“Do you think Miss Sharp recognized that it wasn’t me at the ball yesterday?” I asked after a long moment.
Colin pressed his lips together. “Possibly. Your foreheadislarger than mine.”
I scoffed. “Your nose is wider.”
A faint smile crossed his lips. “You wish.”
I laughed, and the weight on my shoulders lightened. Despite how he hid his feelings, I knew from my time masquerading as Colin that all he wanted was to be seen and loved for who he was.Pretending to be him had taught me to understand him in a way I hadn’t before. He was still an irritating sapskull, but I did love him. I wanted him to be happy.
“So you have truly fallen in love with Miss Sharp?” Colin’s eyes still shone with disbelief.
“Yes. I don’t believe her intentions are impure as you suspected. At least not anymore. I believe she might return my feelings.”
Colin stared at the wall, obviously trapped in deep thought. “At the ball yesterday she did seem quite distressed. She seemed as if she might burst into tears.”
My heart sank, my muscles tensing. “Why did you make her cry?”
“I didn’t try to! You might have told me that you kissed her and declared yourself to her. That wasn’t part of our plan.”
I could hardly stand still a moment longer. “I must find her and try to explain.”
Colin stopped me by the shoulder. “Are you going to tell her the truth? How do you possibly expect this conversation to end in your favor?”
His question lingered in the back of my mind, aching and persistent. It seemed impossible, but even so, I had to try.
CHAPTER 24
CLARK
Ihad rewritten my new letter to Arabella at least three times before having it delivered to her residence on Milsom Street.
I had asked her to meet me at Pulteney Bridge at sunset.
A row of ducks swam in the river below, which I foolishly hoped might soften her heart enough to accept my apology. The streets were less crowded than usual. The assembly rooms were hosting the most elegant ball of the week that evening, drawing many guests there instead of to Great Pulteney Street.
I paced in front of the stone balustrade overlooking the river. I had rehearsed my words hundreds of times over the course of the day, but they still didn’t feel right. I couldn’t guess what Miss Sharp would say or do. I never could. She was far too unpredictable.
My heart pounded in a shallow rhythm. There was a chance she could refuse to meet me. I had never received a letter in return. The sun hung low beneath the clouds, painting the sky in deep shades of pink and orange. The air was cool beside the river, and the ducks vocalized softly as they swam through thewater. I waited for several minutes, my eyes fixed on the end of the street.
The colors in the sky faded to dusk, and then Arabella appeared from around the corner.
I would have expected to see her aunt accompanying her, but tonight it was Mrs. Ollerton. They walked arm in arm across the cobblestones.
I stood up straighter as they approached.
I wasn’t surprised to see the fire in Arabella’s features; I knew she would be upset and confused after how Colin had treated her at the ball. Her eyes were as sharp as they had been the first time I had met her—cold and inquisitive. A light breeze tossed the ribbons on her bonnet, and as she came closer, I noticed the crease between her eyebrows. Her jaw was tight, her pink lips stitched in a firm line. In every step she took toward the bridge, I sensed the defenses she had raised against me.
Mrs. Ollerton released Arabella’s arm, stepping away with a glare. She looked as if she wished to scold me, but instead she slunk toward the other side of the bridge. She must have planned to observe our interaction from a distance.
I met Arabella a few paces away from the bridge. The fading sun cast a golden glow over her skin and hair, and when her eyes met mine, they flashed with hurt. But then her scowl returned, harsher than before.
I hardly knew how to begin, but only that I needed to apologize for a great number of things. I reached for her hand, taking her fingers softly in mine.
She tugged it away.
I took a step back. “Arabella—I’m sorry. I should have contacted you sooner, but thank you for meeting me. There is much I must explain to you, and a letter simply wouldn’t suffice.”
