My eyes sting like he’s cursed at me. But he’s too gentle for that. “Jahleel, you want me to leave?”
“Yes, Lady Hampton, go. We are finally done. Go … with no ill will.”
Even now, he’s nobler than I’ll ever be. Not a foul word from his lips. No damning me to hell.
But I can’t leave. I’m too afraid Jahleel will stop breathing. I wait to see him fill his lungs one more time.
Chapter 10
KATHERINE—NOTTOOPROUD TOBEG
Counting and praying, I finally see Jahleel’s chest move. He flicks open his eyes. “Still here?”
“Someone needs to be with you.”
“That someone was never to be you.”
His words strike me hard. I’d rather he yells that I’m unworthy.
I am.
But Jahleel never yells. His disagreements are gentlemanly, but his tone and dismissiveness make me feel small and foolish.
“Katherine. I’ve seen you. Tell me how brilliant I am. So brilliant and mortal. Then go, knowing you amused me.”
“Can’t go. Scarlett’s not back. She’ll never trust me if I leave.”
“The burdens we must bear.” Jahleel turns a little onto his pillow. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something in time. Time is a gift.” His words are soft. “Time solves all problems … or removes them.”
Dampening the cloth anew, I try to pretend he didn’t call himself my problem or hint at death removing him. Making slow, small circles, I mop his forehead. I breathe more deeply when I see his lips ease, the tight press slacking. “Like glass cutting through your veins, Jahleel?”
“And the pressure in my chest. That makes it even worse.”
Then all is silent, until I speak. “You became so sick on our wedding trip. You might’ve died in my arms. How was I to take that?”
He glances at me. “What a way to die, I suppose, with your beautiful feet arched about me. Yes, die with passion and the love of a lifetime. My mother would care for you as she’s caring for me and Lydia.”
“That woman hated me—or so I thought. But why would she want the match? My family was a working one, not noble, not part of the gentry.”
He holds his neck. “She was fretting over Anya being sick. She didn’t know I …”
His lips close, for a moment. “Lady Hampton, did you say I won? I forget.”
“Yes, you won.” I wring out the cloth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying at Anya House. I will return you to health, Jahleel. Let me be of aid.”
“Katia, please.” He shakes his head. “You don’t care if I live or die. You didn’t last week. You haven’t for the three years I’ve been right here in London.”
“I care, and maybe I needed you to admit that you were sick. That our future would always be in jeopardy. Then I could have chosen. I’d have made a fully formed decision with my head, not just my heart.”
“You mean a decision not formed of lust and curiosity. You wanted a prince like in the fairy tales. This one came with baggage—a body you’d grow to detest, then be joyful when it gave out.”
“No. That’s not it. You should’ve told me the truth about being sick. If you lied about that, what other lies would you tell?”
“See? My fault. That way, when Tavis whispered lies—”
“His parents insisted they were true. That you were a womanizer and that you’d leave me destitute.”
He rubs at his chest as he erupts in coughs. “Ah, the toll of being pitiful and proud. But I’m not a hypocrite.”
