“Ophelia, there is something I need to tell you.”
“Oh…” Still holding his hand, Ophelia turned around so that she looked at him properly. The moon reached his face fully, so there was nowhere for him to hide. And because it did, she saw the guilt pass across it, as well as the shame.
“Last week, I learned the reason that Lady Delacourt asked for you to deliver baby Harriet to my doorstep. At least I believe I learned the reason.”
“You did?” Ophelia blinked in surprise.
He sighed. “It was such a random… I still do not fully understand it. From what I am able to gather, I met Lady Delacourt just once, several years ago in Bath.”
“She owns a home in Bath,” Ophelia said in realization.
“She does,” he agreed. “I never knew her name but there was a single instance one evening when I saved her from a falling tree branch. It was such a small thing, and I had not thought of it once since. But after I saved her, she was so determined to heap praise on me as if I had done some great thing. I did not want it…” He grimaced. “So, I made a comment about good deeds being their own reward or something of that nature, trying to dismiss her praise of me as if anyone would have done the same.”
“I do not…”
“She must have thought me a bastion of chivalry.” He chuckled bitterly. “And I can only assume that when she thought of who might take care of Harriet, my name came to mind.” A shake of the head and he looked away. “I am sorry, Ophelia. I should have told you sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked him.
“I do not know,” he admitted.
Ophelia knew why. It was the same reason that he refused to open up to her, that he avoided her when he could, and that he treated her so coldly when all she wanted was to better know her husband. His walls… the shell that he lived in… he did it for his own protection, while not considering how it affected those around him.
And while Ophelia was willing to give Adrian time to come to terms with what was expected of him now that he was married, that did little to temper the frustration that burned through her.
This can’t go on. It simply cannot…
“I know why.” She held his hand still, not even realizing that she was doing so. “You’re scared.”
“What?” He looked up and started. “I am not scared. That is absurd.”
“You are,” she said with determination. “You are scared to let anyone else in, to give them anything that they might use against you. For so long, Adrian, you have lived alone, nobody to care about but yourself, and you cannot comprehend anything different to that state of being. Admit it.”
“I…” His brow furrowed, an argument forming that he could not voice.
“But you are not alone anymore,” she said to him, keeping her voice soft. “For the first time, there are other people in your life who you need to consider, Adrian. You might think you are doing me a favor by keeping yourself hidden away, but it is the opposite of that.” She squeezed his hand as she met his eyes. “Let me in.”
His face hardened, and he tried to pull away, but she kept hold of his hand, giving him nowhere to run or hide.
“I told you about my past, did I not?” she pressed on him, her voice cracking. “I trusted you because I knew that I could. Trust me. You owe me that much.”
“I don’t know what you want,” he said. “What you ask…” A shake of the head, and he laughed bitterly. “I am not nearly so complicated as you think I am. There is nothing to give you.”
“That is not true.”
“It is.”
“Oh…” She smiled, desperate to keep the tone light. “What of those shards I found in your office earlier?”
His eyes widened. “Those are… they are not… they are nothing.”
“Let me decide that,” she said as she held his hand, squeezing it gently. “Tell me, why do you keep them? There must be a reason.”
He looked down at his hand. He focused on it as if it was the most important thing in the world. Nothing was said for a moment, and Ophelia could literally feel him fighting with himself.
“It is silly,” he said finally, his voice unsure. “But I like to… fix things. Broken things.” He clicked his tongue. “When I find a vase or something of that nature which is cracked or imperfect, Itake it to my office so I might make it whole.” He bowed his head further. “As I said, it is nothing.”
Ophelia smiled, the type that almost outshone the moon.
