Page 110 of The Art of Sinning
His throat worked convulsively. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I do. Facing the past is hard. But your father is dead now, and your mother and sister need you. They suffered along with you back then, though you probably couldn’t see it. Let them help you grieve now and put it behind you at last. So you can go on.”
Struggling for breath, he slipped his hand from hers. “Is this a new requirement for our marriage?” he said curtly. “Even though you’ve already accepted my offer, you’re imposing some new condition—”
“I didn’t know all the facts then. And yes, now that I do, this is what I require.” A flash of pain darkened her gaze before she steadied her shoulders. “Because the truth is, Jeremy, I’ve fallen in love with you.”
The words stunned him, then crept through him like ivy seeking out cracks in the bricks he’d used to wall up his heart. She loved him. Even after everything she’d learned about his past, shelovedhim?
Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought I could marry you despite your not feeling the same, but I find that I cannot. If we’re to have a life together, you can’t always be running—from love, from the past... from me. My father ran from all the hard parts of marriage.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t watch my husband do it, too. I just... can’t.”
“I’m not sure if I can do what you ask,” he choked out.
“Then I don’t see any way for us to wed,” she said mournfully. “Because marriage only works if the husband and wife can both look forward.”
A knock came at the door. Neither of them responded, but the door opened anyway to reveal his mother. “Oh. Forgive me. A servant came in to say that Lord Blakeborough is still waiting in his carriage for his sister.”
Yvette gave her a forced smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Keane. Please tell the servant I’ll be there in a moment.”
His mother glanced from her to him and frowned, but she left.
“I have to go,” Yvette murmured.
“Don’t.” He caught her hand. “I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go.”
Her expression conflicted, she kissed him on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. You know where to find me if you should change your mind.”
Then she walked out.
He stood there numb. Disbelieving. After all they’d meant to each other, all they’d shared, she’d broken their engagement. Or rather, she’d put a condition upon it that he could not meet.
Or could he? Was Yvette right?Washe running away from everything and everyone? If they married, would he eventually run away from her, too?
Art Sacrificed to Commercecaught his eye, and he felt that horrible lurch again as he stared at the work. After all these years, what had pressed him to paint it?
Father’s death, obviously. Jeremy had started thinking about the painting shortly after the funeral. Working on it the past few weeks had obsessed him. Yet although he was generally a quick painter, this one hadn’t come quickly.
He hadn’t been able to get Yvette right, no matter how much he reworked her image. Was it because he’d wanted to make her into Hannah and hadn’t yet succeeded?
No, he didn’t think so.
“My, my, that is... very...”
He whirled to find his mother staring at the painting with widened eyes. She managed a weak smile. “I guess that answers the question that Lady Yvette kept avoiding—how you ended up engaged. Did her brother actually allow—”
“No.” Although Mother would never hurt Yvette’s reputation, he ought to try to explain away the resemblance to Yvette, or otherwise hide the truth from her.
He just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.
She cocked her head. “Is that your father?”
“No.” Jeremy speared a hand through his hair. “Yes. Well, both of us, really.”
His mother stood in silence, taking in the image. “It’s not finished, I take it.”
“Not yet.” And he seemed to have lost all desire to complete it. What would be the point, now that he knew why it had consumed him so?
“What do you call it?”
