Page 70 of The Viscount's Code
When he was gone, the room fell so silent that Anthony could practically hear the tension between them, a light buzzing that filled his ears. He wished that he wasn’t in such a vulnerable state lying before her, that he could stand and take her in his arms and do what he yearned to do from the very center of him, which was to show her how much she meant to him, that he had been a fool for leaving her.
But instead he was lying here, unable to rise due to the pounding of his head. She entered the room tentatively, taking slow steps toward him as though she was scared.
“How are you feeling?” she asked in that soft, melodic voice of hers.
“I’ve been better,” he said, not meaning for his tone to be as gruff as it was.
“I can imagine,” she said, gracefully taking the chair beside the bed. She looked tired, not as vibrant as usual. “You had quite the fall.”
He furrowed his brow. “All I can remember is the sound of shots. Wildheart—do you know how Wildheart is?”
“He’s fine,” she said with a small smile. “Actually, he was the one who alerted us to the fact that you were in trouble. He showed up at the stables with your saddlebag over his back but no rider.”
“He’s a good horse,” Anthony said gruffly. He did love that horse. He reminded himself to bring him an extra treat the next time he saw him.
“That he is,” she said, leaning forward with worry on her face. “Were the shots directed at you?”
“I have no idea,” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes, “although the fact that Lord and Lady Covington were also shot at earlier this summer while similarly involved in this treasure hunt seems rather too much of a coincidence, does it not?”
“It does,” Hope said. “Perhaps do not say anything to my father, as he is already worried enough.”
Anthony groaned. “I can hardly believe that he has allowed you to remain here.”
When all he was met with was silence, he opened his eyes to find Hope looking down at her clasped hands. He reached out and lifted her chin with his fingers, his heart dropping when he saw the tears in her eyes.
“Hope,” he said in a low voice. “What is it?”
“I—” her voice broke. “I thought you were gone. Dead. That I would never have the chance to see you again. To touch you. To—” When she stopped and took a shuddering breath, Anthony wished with everything within him that he could take her into his arms and tell her that it was all going to be all right. But he couldn’t. Because he didn’t know that. “In that moment, when I saw you lying there, thinking you were d-dead, I knew one thing for certain. It didn’t matter what my father said or wanted for me. A life without you is no life at all. Which I told him when we arrived back here and I realized that you were alive.”
He kept his eyes on her, watching the expressions play out on her face.
“What did he have to say to that?”
“At first, he told me that I was being stubborn and a fool. But then—”
Anthony waited.
“Then my mother came into the room,” she said, a slight smile playing over her lips. “She told my father thathewas the fool, that if he continued to try to keep me from you, all that he was doing was pushing me away.”
Anthony’s jaw dropped open. “So he… he approved of your wishes, then?”
Hope cleared her throat. “‘Approved’ might be too strong of a word,” she admitted. “But he no longer forbade a potential union.”
She didn’t meet his eye any longer, and he knew then the issue – he hadn’t said anything about the note in which she had expressed all she felt for him. She had placed her heart out before him, and he hadn’t responded.
“Why did you leave?” she asked, finally looking up at him, meeting his eye, and the hurt he saw within her face brought pain to his own chest.
He used his elbows to push himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the pain it caused his head.
“Anthony, don’t—” she began, but he held up a hand to stave off her words.
“Hope,” he said, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”
“You made me feel a fool,” she said, her words harsher than he had heard from her before. “I have been the one telling you how I feel, giving you my heart, and you keep throwing it back at me. When I thought you had died, I knew how I felt, truly, but still, you have not allowed me in, and I—”
“Hope, I received your note,” he interrupted her.
She sniffed softly. “Perhaps I was a fool to send it. You do not have to reciprocate my feelings, no matter what happened between us in the past. I just needed you to know—”
