Page 32 of Zenith
“Then I am pleased.” His disposition turned serious all at once, and he continued, “Jane, I asked you once if the world found me abhorrent, would you turn from me completely as the Ingram’s and their followers surely would…”
“I did turn from you.”
He bowed his head in acceptance. “You did, and I do not blame you. But I ask you now… If I were no one of consequence, if I were poor, plain, and little—just as you used to describe yourself—would you turn from me? Would you still see me as I am without this grand house and my fortune?”
The air was full of the scent of burning chemicals, the low humming of bees working through the flowerbeds to our left clear in the silence of the countryside. Somewhere at the back of the hotel, a door slammed, and the groundskeeper’s dog barked, sending a pair of inky black crows sailing high into the blue sky, cawing in annoyance.
Edward stared at me, his eyes swirling and his lips pursed together tightly as he waited for my answer.
“No,” I said. “I would not turn from you.”
His expression melted into softness, and he nodded. I stepped toward him, closing the space between us, drawn to him as strongly as ever.
Brushing my fingers against his, I murmured, “You are not your fortune.”
