Page 44 of The Viscount's Daring Cinderella
“Yes. Have a seat.”
Theodore went to his desk and withdrew a document. “I have something for you.”
Beryl’s lips lifted in a smile. “What is it?”
He reached across his desk and handed her the document. “Please open it.”
Beryl unfolded the paper and read. Her heart was thumping against her ribs, and she could feel the color rise on her cheeks. “This is the deed for a house in my name,” she whispered.
“Indeed.”
She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “But why?”
Theodore hesitated and then murmured, “I do not want you to be the governess anymore. I want your future to be protected. I want to be the one protecting you.”
Beryl retracted as if she had been slapped in the face. “You do not want me to be the governess anymore because you want me to be your mistress. Is that it? I am certain that is what you mean by you protecting me.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Will you at least consider it? I will ensure that you are well provided for, I promise you. You will have a full complement of staff—”
Beryl stood up and threw the document down on his desk. “I will never be your mistress.”
Shock crossed his face before his expression turned inscrutable.
“Never!” she said once more, spun around and made for the door.
“Beryl, wait …”
Theodore called after her but she did not stop. There would be no platitudes for her. Tears pooled in her eyes, blinding her as she rushed from the library. Beryl went to her room, collapsed on the bed, and succumbed. She could no longer stop the tears as a hot one rolled down her cheek. In the privacy of her bedroom, she gave in to deep sobs that rocked her inside and signaled her pain.
I am so foolish!
Theodore had torn her heart out and stomped on it. She had not protected her heart, and she was in love with him. Yes, love. She fell for the rogue. It would not have been so painful if she did not love him with all her being.
Beryl’s heart tightened, and blood rushed to her head. She swallowed hard as more tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over. In the beginning, Beryl fooled herself into believing that she only cared for him, but it was much more than caring. She wanted a future with him. She craved the domesticity they had. It felt so good, so right, and she wanted it to continue. She did not want anything as badly as she wanted this. Beryl’s thoughts were jumbled, and it was as if they were screaming in her head. She could not bear the thought that Theodore did not love her, and he only saw her as a woman to quench his lust.
How could Theodore think that she wanted to be his mistress after everything that they shared? They had gotten closer and developed a strong relationship, but it was only a mirage. It was clear now. She was not valuable to him, and he would not choose her as a wife. She could be a governess and a mistress but never his wife.
Beryl’s voice broke miserably. “You have been such a fool. You were never going to be anything more than a soiled dove. He is no better than Lord Stanmore.”
These last few days she had harbored all the fantasies about the future they would share together.
Beryl’s tears flowed freely and then she started to hiccup. She had to accept that while she formed a strong, intimate bond with Theodore, it was not reciprocated. Confusion and emotional turmoil burned deep in her belly. Even though she knew he did not want her, she could not stop thinking about his kisses and hugs. Theodore was by no means perfect. He had his faults and vulnerabilities, yet she loved his imperfections. The more they had gotten to know each other, the closer she felt to him. All the walks in the garden, the games, dinners, and passionate nights had all given her a glimpse of what she could have, what she needed.
Why had she thought the gentleman who said he had no interest in marriage would change? Beryl had gambled with her heart and virtue, and she had painfully lost.
She had to take responsibility for her folly. She could not blame it on him alone, and she must extricate herself from the situation; otherwise, she would destroy herself. Genuine fear churned in her belly, pushing aside the warmth and affection she felt for him. Unrequited love. This is what it felt like. Now that she knew, she needed to accept her reality. She wanted Theodore, badly, but she would never be satisfied with the life of a mistress. Staying at Bowden Park was no longer an option. She must distance herself from him because she needed the time and space to heal.
The pain was so great that it robbed her of her breath. Beryl sat up in bed and brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. Enough of that. She sat by her desk and penned a letter.
My dearest Flora,
I hope that my letter finds you well. I’ve missed you most dreadfully. I wish I was writing to you with favorable news, but sadly not. I have found myself in a quandary and need your assistance in this grave matter. I settled into the role of governess quite well. As I mentioned before, Louise and Mattie are quite lovely, which makes writing this letter even more difficult. They are beautiful girls who miss their mother and father very much, and we have formed an attachment.
Alas, I have been rather foolish, falling helplessly in love with the viscount. He does not return my sentiments and wishes to remain an uncompromising bachelor. I became endlessly fascinated with him and came to enjoy the time that we spent together. I should have been more circumspect in my thoughts and actions, being so enclosed alone with the viscount, but I was powerless to stop my desires from invading my thoughts.
I should not have left my heart so open to a gentleman who did not wish to marry. Oh Flora, I had hoped that when we got to know each other, he would change his mind. Everything was going famously well. The viscount decided not to travel to the continent, and as he stayed closer to home, he took a much more active role in the matters of the estate. Mattie and Louise were starved for his attention, and he found time during his busy day to play games with them. I thought he would have changed his mind about marrying, but he only sought for me to be his mistress. As I am writing to you, my heart is shattered, and I am confused about loving yet wanting to be away from the viscount.
I am sure you can understand my dilemma, as my position here is precarious at best. Please help me by allowing me to have a respite at your country estate so that I can gather my thoughts and composure. As you canimagine, this matter is quite urgent, for I need to leave Bowden Park for at least a week.
