Page 56 of The Lady Confesses
Joss was puzzled by his own violent opposition to the description. It was what they had agreed upon, after all. They may not have used precisely that term, but he had made it clear that theirs would be a practical arrangement. He’d thought she had accepted it, and according to what she told her sister, she had done so. And now that seemed to be the very last thing he desired.
Recalling how he’d laid it all out, he flinched. They would marry to give their child the benefit of legitimacy.They would live together and make the best of their situation, but love would never be part of the equation.Thinking back to the moment when Hettie had tried to open up to him about her feelings, he knew he had not responded well. He’d known it then. And in two weeks of being without her, he’d had to accept that maybe his attachment to her was greater than he’d intended for it to be.
How could he explain to her that his objection to hearing her tell him that she loved him was not because he did not love her in return, but that he felt unworthy of her love entirely? He was a gutter rat, born and bred. All the fine manners and education in the world would not change that he was born with nothing and everything he had currently was solely based on the generosity of a man the world saw as a criminal. Who would want to be loved by someone like him?
Turning away, Joss made for the stairs. He would clean himself up first, and then they would talk. They would have a conversation about just how satisfactory their marriage would be... for both of them. Whether it was Vincent’s goading or the obvious unhappiness he’d heard in Hettie’s voice, something had shifted inside him. He wouldn’t allow his fear to hurt her. Never again.
*
When Hettie enteredher room, she was quite stunned to find that it was occupied—by the same man who occupied her thoughts. And he was standing before the wash basin with his shirt off and his wonderfully broad shoulders bared and little droplets of water rolling down his very muscular chest. Scars and all, he was a remarkably well formed man.
Realizing that she was staring far too intently, Hettie turned away. With as casual a tone as she was capable of, she remarked, “Oh... I didn’t realize you’d returned already.”
“Only just,” he said. “The journey was not as difficult as anticipated.”
“And things in London are settled? If such things are ever settled, of course.”
He nodded. “For the time being. Ardmore may be a problem for another day, but for now, he is suitably bowed. I do not foresee that he will make a nuisance of himself again for some time. But I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong about many things.”
There was something about that last statement that made her breath hitch. There was a degree of emotion infused in those words that she had not heard from him before. “’Tis a rare thing for a man to admit. What else have you been wrong about?”
“Walking away from you after that first night in the Mint. Keeping my distance from you every day since. Telling you that ours would only ever be a marriage based in practicality rather than feeling... I heard you—downstairs—when you were speaking with your sister.”
Hettie’s heart sank even as her face heated with embarrassment. “That was not a conversation you were meant to hear.”
“No. It was not. But I think it is a conversation I very much needed to hear... because I had no idea how disappointing asatisfactory marriagecould be until I heard you describe ours as such.”
“You expressed yourself quite clearly on the subject,” she replied with a healthy amount of haughtiness. She needed to make some effort to salvage her pride, after all. “I have no expectations of you.”
“I think it might be better to say that I had no expectations of you. I never expected that a woman such as you would ever feelanything for me. Nor should you, honestly. But a thing can be improbable and still be possible. Can’t it?”
Hettie shook her head. “I have no idea what this is about or what you’re trying to say, but I very much wish you would just say it directly. I cannot simply guess at it or presume that I understand your meaning when you are being intentionally vague and cryptic!”
He was silent for a moment, simply staring at her in that enigmatic way of his. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and low, “I no longer want a practical arrangement. I no longer want you or anyone else to think that what has passed between us is only because of this child... because I love you, Hettie. I think I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.”
“In some hovel in the Mint covered in the filth of the river?” she demanded, her voice rising with a hint of hysteria in it.
“No. Running across the deck of the ship with your hair flying behind you. Seeing the stark fear on your face and watching you jump into the river anyway... because even if you died, it wouldn’t be their choice but yours.”
Tears burned her eyes and on a choked cry, she demanded, “Do not do this to me.”
“What am I doing to you?”
She shook her head, dashing away the tears that simply would not be held back any longer. “Giving me hope. I can live with anything but disappointment. Do not offer me love and then be unable to support the words with your actions.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Joss crossed theroom to where Hettie stood. “You are everything I could have ever dreamed of in a woman, and that is why I was so afraid to love you. I’ve lived my whole life with the notion that I didn’t deserve good things because good things never came my way. But you... what man could ever deserve you? I’m a baseborn gutter rat who never knew my father and who has only the barest memories of his mother.”
“And Arthur Ernsdale was a titled gentleman, a peer of the realm, who drank, wagered, and tormented his way through life. The station of your birth does not define your character!”
“No, it does not. But there are others who do not share that belief and... it isn’t simply that I climbed up the social ladder with this marriage, it’s that you have climbed down. They will all look at you differently. They will look at me with contempt. Contempt that is more than likely well deserved,” he confessed. The admission was more troubling than he wished to consider. But what he wished to do and what he had to do were very different things.
“You do not deserve their contempt.”
“You do not know that! There are horrible things in my past, both distant and recent, that make me the absolute worst choice for a husband.”
Hettie merely shrugged. “No. Arthur Dagliesh was the worst choice for a husband. I was a prisoner in that house. Boughtand sold by my father into a loveless marriage to a cruel man who would slap, shove, or otherwise abuse me for the slightest infraction and took every opportunity to belittle and humiliate me. Will you do those things?”
