She pulled on her stockings and turned to him, folding her arms. “So you’d have me go out in the snow with my gown unbuttoned?” she teased.
He smiled at her, that warm, genuine smile that made her long for all that she could never have. “You’re rather incorrigible yourself,” he told her, pulling her toward him. He took her hand, kissing her wrist. “And I love you for it.”
Placing their tangled fingers over his heart, herepeated the words, “I love you.” The unflinching sincerity in his gaze nearly broke her. “Onlyyou.”
“Sol—” she started.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he said, holding her to him for another moment. “Just know it.”
“All right,” she managed to say but wild fear beat through her veins. When he finally let her go, handing her back her corset, she glanced around the room as she hurriedly replaced it on her body. “I should—I need to tell your brother and—”
“I know. And you should,” he said as she redonned her gown and cloak. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, catching her gaze. “But know this, Hannah. This isn’t temporary. We can and will have a life with each other. In the light. And I will convince you of that. Soon.”
There it was again.
The perfect time for her to do what needed to be done, to break him of his delusions, to let him go like a better woman would. But in the dim firelight, with him staring at her, so earnest and handsome and capable, so deserving of love that could most certainly not be for her, she became worse than reckless, worse than selfish, worse thanwicked.
She became a coward.
“Be careful, Sol,” she said and fled to the window before disappearing into the night.
