Page 53

She was truly enough for him? Just her, just as she was—and always had been?

The insecurities that had smouldered within her for so long were doused with a bucket of cold water. They smoked and steamed, some glimmer of them fighting to remain, but Jacob’s honesty couldn’t be overcome. She knew he had spoken the absolute truth, and it left no uncertainty, in just a few sentences freeing her from the shackles of self-doubt she had clamped around her own wrists.

It was hard to make her numb lips move, but she had to show the same honesty Jacob had gifted to her. He had laid himself bare and she needed to do likewise, meeting his vulnerability with her own. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you as well as myself. You’ve never once let me struggle alone. I wish I’d seen that sooner.’

‘I’ll always help you up if you stumble, Meg. Whenever you reach out your hand, I’ll take it.’

Abruptly he brought both his own hands up to lock behind his head, exhaling a ragged breath towards the shed’s rough ceiling.

‘Hellfire. What fools we’ve both been.’

A new light had sparked in his eyes. It made him look younger, the most animated she’d seen him since their lives had become entwined all over again, and it made Meg want to forget any sense and let him scoop her up to carry her back to the house.

He stepped forward, his powerful shoulders blocking out much of the sunlight streaming through the door at his back.

‘We’ve already wasted five years in which we could have been happy,’ he said urgently. ‘Let’s not let any more time slip away. Tell me what’s in your heart, and I swear to you I’ll make it happen, regardless of what it costs.’

Meg recoiled from the passion of his entreaty. It made keeping to the decision she’d made very nearly impossible but, even now the knots of their past had been unpicked, there was no way she could turn back.

There might not be any misunderstandings stretching between them now but that was the only thing that had changed. Isabella’s lies had still poisoned her reputation, and Jacob would still suffer for it, and that was something no amount of groundbreaking revelations would make her allow.

‘Very well. I want… I want an annulment.’

‘What?’ Even in the semi-darkness she could tell Jacob had gone white, the brightness in his eyes snuffed out like a candle left in the rain. ‘You can’t be serious. Why would you say such a thing, especially now?’

He stared at her, starkly horrified. ‘I don’t understand. We have a chance at a fresh start, based in truth and free of confusion. I know Anthony’s death has made things more difficult, but once that storm has passed—’

‘It will never pass. Ever.’ Forcing herself not to waver, she met his appalled eyes. ‘What kind of future would you have with me as your wife? The suspicion that surrounds me will never fade away. The Fernley name would be notorious; our children would be spurned and rejected and nobody would ever let them forget the crimes I was accused of. They wouldn’t be able to wed and your line would die out, generations of viscounts ended because of me.’ She felt herself flush. ‘It’s only down to pure luck that I’m not with child already. When I think that I could have conceived that night at the old cottage…’

‘If you were with child now it would be cause for celebration, not regret.’ Jacob’s teeth were gritted. ‘Isabella is the one who has caused this upset, not you. I’ll find a way to make her publicly retract her accusations and then nobody will be able to say anything against you, or any children we might yet be blessed with.’

Meg shook her head, trying to withstand the hopelessness spreading over her. ‘She won’t do it. You know she won’t. The only way Isabella will admit she was wrong is if the real murderer is found, and Sir Edward doesn’t seem to know where to even begin looking.’

She peered up at him. He looked to be preparing his next attack on her resistance, and she knew she had to act before he could mount it, her defences never at greater risk of being breached. ‘We have to face facts,’ she said shakily. ‘If you continue being married to me, it’ll bring you and our children nothing but scorn and emptiness. You need to look to your future and let me go.’

‘I can’t.’ Jacob took another step forward, only halting when he saw her draw back. ‘I don’t care if I’m the last Viscount Fernley. I love you, Meg. Nothing else matters if I don’t have you.’

To her everlasting agony, she heard his voice break. He spoke like a man on the edge of ruin and she felt herself sway towards him, her hands twitching to be able to seek his. It was to save him from suffering that she had to keep her distance, however; if she caved now, it would mean sentencing him to even more pain later on, and it was only that undisputable knowledge that aided her flagging restraint.

With a last desperate effort, she tried to collect herself. Her heart was racing, blood pounded in her ears and she groped to find some last vestiges of composure before all dregs of it fled.

‘I love you too,’ she managed to force out, hardly able to hear herself above the thud of her pulse. ‘But I want you to be able to go to balls and not have people stare at you. I want you to be respected for the good man that you are. I want your daughters to be feted and your sons admired, and I want them to be able to wed and give you grandchildren that will be a joy to you in old age.’

She choked down what felt like a razor blade lodged in her throat. ‘You won’t have any of that with me beside you. It’s because I love you that I won’t stand by and allow you to throw all of that away.’

Jacob didn’t move. She could see his chest rising and falling far too quickly for a man standing still and knew that beneath his shirt his heart must be thumping as hard as hers. His eyes searched her strained face, the blue depths dark with pain, but then he dipped his head.

‘I see.’ A small movement feathered in his jaw, a giveaway sign he was struggling to keep himself under control. ‘If that’s how you feel, then I have to respect it. What I don’t have to do, though, is agree with it.’

‘You must. There’s no other way.’

‘I don’t agree with that, either.’ From somewhere he dragged up a terrible smile, a sad, suffering thing that made her want to cry. ‘But I’ll take my leave of you now. I admit my hope is that, if I give you more time to think you might decide on a different plan…although I also have plans of my own.’

He stepped back. At once she wanted to move forward, closing the gap that now stretched between them, but she made herself keep still as he turned for the door.

She thought he might hesitate before he ducked through it, perhaps stopping to say something more, but he didn’t pause. Without a backward glance, he lowered his head and walked out into the sunshine, and he didn’t falter as he strode from the yard, leaving her to watch him go with her heart lying shattered at her feet.

Jacob didn’t usually drink much, but on this occasion he was willing to make an exception.