Page 50 of One Night with Mr. Darcy
“I don’t know all of them.”
“He makes them touch him?”
“They want to,” said Georgiana. “Iwant to.”
“You want to be chosen and special,” countered Richard. “You don’t wish to be… a skeletal puppet to be made to dance and twist and to be used by a madman!”
She flinched.
“Damnation.” He turned back around and gripped the windowsill again. “Apologies again.”
“What are you going to do to him?” whispered Georgiana.
“You’re never going to see him again.”
“What?” Her soul twisted. “But he’s my—”
“No, he is not,” said Richard. “No, he is hurting you. He is hurting you, and he is confusing you, and you don’t even realize you are being hurt. It’s not your fault. He got to you when you were very young. He is smart and he… he has a number of people all wrapped around his little finger, doesn’t he?” The colonel ran a hand through his hair. “He is abominable.”
“He’s not. He and I are connected. He is One and I am Two, and you are going to hurt him!” She got up and ran across the room and launched herself at Richard. She began to pummel him with both hands, tears streaming down her face.
Oh, when One found out what she had done, that she had betrayed him, thethingshe would do to her. He would be so angry. She didn’t like it when he was angry. Sometimes, when he was angry, he did wretchedly awful things to her.
And anyway, she was lying about it.
He had let her touch it before. Touch him.
Once, when he was angry, he put it in her…
Choked her with it, and she couldn’tbreatheand—
She didn’t like to think about that.
It was all for naught, anyway. Richard plucked her tiny fists away and held her at arms’ length and managed to be gentle about it.
Tears were leaking out of his eyes too.
The sight of it made her go limp against him. She burrowed her face in his chest, and she gave in to her sobs.
He wrapped his arms around her and clutched her there.
She cried until she was spent.
He stroked the back of her head, murmuring that she must simply let it out, all of it. “You’ll need to talk of it again and again, and you’ll need… oh, Christ, Georgiana, I have no idea what you’ll need, I don’t. But you’ll get through it. You’ll never be the same, but you’ll be… you’ll heal. You can heal. You can get past it, I know it, I do.”
She sniffled, shaking her head. “I love him, Richard.”
“He doesn’t love you,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes, he does. He says he—”
“He is aliar, Georgiana,” said Richard. “ButIam not a liar, andyour brotheris not a liar, andwelove you, and… try to think about that, would you? That one of us must be lying, either us or him. And who you think is most likely to have something to gain by deceiving you.”
“He wouldn’t lie,” she said. “He does love me.” But the seed of doubt had been planted. She found herself giving in to the questions she sometimes pushed away. If he loved her so much, why did there have to be so many other women? If he loved her, why wouldn’t he marry her? He used to talk about it, but he hadn’t in a long time. So many questions, so many doubts. And was Richard right that she wouldn’t see him again? If so, maybe… maybe he couldn’t loose his anger on her, then. Maybe she’d be safe.
And that gave her the most pause.
If I love him, why am I so afraid of him?
