Page 63 of The Gentleman Was Right
“—you don’t think he’s telling the truth?”
“I don’t know, but it was reckless of us to marry without knowing more about whatever agreements were made between Basil and your father. At the very least, I should have confirmed your inheritance. Speaking with Basil made me realize you could have lost everything when you married me. What if he’d had the right to withhold your inheritance if you didn’t marry him?” He shook his head. “We don’t even know how much money there is.”
Like an idiot, she’d assumed there was plenty.
“You cannot blame yourself. It isn’tyourfault,” she said. The whole mess—everything that had happened since she met Basil—washerfault. Even once she had known Basil was a liar, she had been too caught up in her anger to ask him the proper questions.
His brows drew together. “Well, it certainly isn’t your fault either. Basil should have been honest with you. He never should have put you in a position where you thought you had to marry…someone else.”
A horrible thought suddenly occurred. If Basil was telling the truth, Edward couldn’t take over her father’s business, and that meantshehad lied to him. Not on purpose, but still. “Are you angry about the business?”
“Of course not.”
“I promised you work and…”
“It’s not your fault.”He stepped toward her, his expression contrite. “I’m afraid that I’ve bungled everything, and I’msosorry. Sebastian suggested I discover more about your inheritance before we wed, but I refused. I thought it didn’t matter.” He shook his head. “I failed you.”
His words penetrated the haze of fury that surrounded her. “You failed me?”
“With what you told me about Basil, I should have questioned everything. I have no excuse for why I didn’t, other than I wanted to marry you.”
She faltered. “You didn’t force me. If I hadn’t shown up at your doorstep?—”
“—I would have shown up at yours.”
“Really?” Belinda had suggested it, but Violet hadn’t believed it.
If he had truly wanted to marry her, maybe the feelings he inspired weren’t as dangerous as she’d thought.
Or maybe they weremoredangerous.
Not being able to trust her own judgment made it difficult to assess.
“The day we spent at the cottage was one of the best days of my life. I couldn’t stop thinking of you the whole way back to London. When I found out where you were, and that you were fine, I told myself I had to leave you alone because your actions had made your wishes clear.” He swallowed. “The truth is, I’m not sure I’d have lasted another day without showing up at your doorstep.”
“Truly?” She’d been prickly and angry abouther circumstances when they’d met, and for some reason, he liked her anyway.
The walls that were supposed to protect her heart didn’t stand a chance if he kept assuring her that he had wanted to marry.
How would she protect herself without those walls?
ChapterNineteen
For the remainder of the day, Edward kept arguing with Violet about which of them was more to blame for not questioning Basil’s lies, but he failed to mention that there were no stipulations attached to her inheritance.
Not even after they learned that her father had left her nearly thirty thousand pounds.
He was aware that he’d have to tell her eventually. She’d be furious when she discovered the truth, and it would eat at his conscience to keep something so massive from her for long.
Their conversation in the rain had already brought forth enough revelations for one day, and his desire for their marriage to be a happy one gave him a viable excuse to wait. He hoped to give the feelings she wanted to avoid enough time to blossom into something that didn’t frighten her so much.
Something like love.
He’d been earnest when he told her she didn’t need to concern herself with his emotions. Not because they didn’t exist, but because he intended to feel them whether it was wise or not.
Falling in love was a choice he made while fully aware that she might never feel the same. She might break his heart eventually, but it was a risk he was willing to take, because hechoseto be optimistic about their future.
Just like shechoseto scowl at him from across the table when he offhandedly asked, “Should we go shopping tomorrow? You could order a new gown or two.” They had just finished supper—Isabelle had requested a tray in her room—and were lingering over wine when he made the offer.
