Page 73 of A Duke Reformed
Still, he said nothing.
"Your Grace," she said again, this time with a breath of exasperation. "Open the door please."
"Why? So you would run away again?" he finally spoke. "So you would whisper ‘I must go' and disappear without giving me an explanation?"
Emma swallowed, taking a step back.
"This party was an excuse to get you here. I don't even converse with most of the people in that room. We need to talk, Emma."
"We have nothing to discuss..." she said.
"Why did you lie to me, Emma?" he asked, pushing himself off the door and advancing slowly toward her. "I have tried for weeks to understand it. To make sense of why you would strike a nerve in me so sensitive, it's nearly unbearable. But I don't have that answer and I want you to give it to me."
Emma swallowed again, feeling the room getting smaller.
"Solomon, I don't have the answer you are looking for," she said, throwing both hands in the air.
"Maybe it was selfish of me to expect honesty from you," he said to her, taking a seat on the edge of his table. "Or maybe I'm just too different. It might not be a problem for you, but it is for me because I have this notion that for one to lie...to tell such a lie, there had to be reason. For instance, the lie my mother told that unraveled my entire life had a reason. It wasn't a great one, but there was a reason. That reason makes it a little bit understandable. But it still does not change the fact that I find deceit unforgivable."
Emma's heart pounded. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her gown. The silence stretched between them, heavy and aching. She wanted to speak... desperately. To tell him the truth at last. That the only reason she had lied was to protect herself, to build something ofa wall, however feeble, against the feelings she couldn't control. Feelings that only deepened each time he looked at her that way. She wanted to tell him that inventing an engagement with Edmund had been her way of letting go, of forcing herself to move on from someone she thought she could never have. That it was not spite or gamesmanship... it was self-preservation.
But no words came. Her throat burned with restraint. Because how could she say any of that aloud, when nothing was going to change? When he had made it clear, again and again, that their desires were not aligned? So, she stood there – her face a mask of remorse – saying nothing, even as her chest swelled with everything she could not bring herself to admit.
He turned away from her, running a hand through his hair before facing her again. "You trouble me, Emma," he said quietly. "After I found out that my life was practically a lie... that I wasn't the son of a commoner who died at sea, I always found lying inexcusable. Always have. Yet... for some reason, I cannot stop thinking about you and how I want to excuse you simply because I don't want to stay angry at you."
The admission hung in the air between them, heavier than anything else he had said ever since they met. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her to respond, but Emma's heart gave a painful lurch. She looked down, unable to hold his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe it's better if you don't forgive me, Your Grace," she said. "Maybe that's the only way either of us can move on."
There was a long, tense pause.
"You believe that?" he asked.
She didn't answer. She couldn't. Because if she spoke again, her voice would betray her.
Then, after taking a deep breath, she spoke without looking up. "My father will be wondering where I am. Thank you for the lovely evening."
Solomon remained still as she walked past him, making her way back to the party. Emma didn't dare glance back. Her chest tightened with every step, her vision blurry as she fought the burning in her eyes.
She felt like she had left a part of herself behind in that room.
She barely managed to make it back to the party, slipping through the crowd with a tight-lipped smile and a nod here and there, doing everything she could to appear unaffected as she searched for Cecilias.
But inside, she was a storm of confusion and regret, holding back tears that threatened to betray her at any moment.
"Alice! Oh, great heavens!"
Emma flew across the room without hesitation, her arms flinging around her friend in a tight embrace. She didn't even care that she was barefoot or that her hair was slightly undone from the breeze through her window. She was surprised to see Alice in her room. They had been apart for far too long.
"I missed you so terribly," she mumbled before breaking the hug.
"As did I!" Alice giggled, beaming. "Oh, Emma. Look at you! You've gotten even more beautiful."
Emma sighed. "Oh, don't tease me," she groaned. "I know I look a mess right now."
"I'm here too... in case you didn't notice, Emma," Lavinia teased.
Emma turned to Lavinia with a laugh, her hand reaching out to squeeze Lavinia's arm. "I apologize, my friend but I have been seeing you quite often these days, but... Alice! How long has it been?"
