Page 74 of The Art of Sinning
A fierce expression crossed his face. “I refused to have my pregnant wife attempting to support me while I tried futilely to find a post. No child of mine would grow up eating gruel because I was too proud and stubborn to be the man my father wanted. So I gave in to Father’s demands.”
“You had no choice,” she said softly. “No matter what your late wife said, following your dreams would have meant enormous sacrifices for her and your child. She must have been a very fine woman to consider living a harder life just so you could one day pursue schooling in art.”
“She was a fine woman indeed.” He rose, his face a mask of regret. “Yet despite knowing that, I couldn’t... I never did... love her. Ilikedher, mind you. I enjoyed her company. I even convinced myself that I could be happy married to her and running the mills, if that was to be my whole life. But deep down, I knew that would never satisfy me. I already resented giving up my dreams, settling into a life that didn’t suit me.”
He walked up to the bed to stare at her. “Don’t you see? A lovely woman of character—one carrying my son, for God’s sake—still couldn’t engage my heart, couldn’t change my innate selfishness. We lived together as husband and wife forsix months, and that never changed.” His voice grew choked. “That’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?” she asked, her own heart in her throat.
“I’m not the kind of man who falls in love. Mother always said I would learn to love Hannah eventually, as she had learned to love Father, but I knew that would never happen for me. And when Hannah went into labor, and I wasn’t—”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Let’s just say that I had already become the same sort of selfish being my father always was. Like him, I was clearly not the sort to feel deeply. And what woman wants a man with no heart for a husband?”
“But youhavea heart!” Yvette jumped up. “I’ve seen it countless times—your kindness to Damber, your kindness to me in what you saw as a foolish quest. Those do not speak of a heartless man. Or a selfish one who can’t love.”
“That’s not love. That’s basic human decency. But from everything I’ve been told, a woman wants more than that. She wants a man who will happily sacrifice for her, give up his future and hopes and dreams if that’s what it takes to secure her. I was incapable of that sort of selflessness then, and I doubt I’m capable of it now.”
“You’re basing your opinion of who you are on what you did and felt when you wereeighteen.Good Lord, you were barely grown. You were thrust into a marriage before you fully knew what you wanted out of life. How you reacted to the weight of such responsibility then says nothing about the man you’ve become.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I do! I, too, had an early experience with someone who made me wary of marriage. But at least you had the good sense to recognize the true nature of your feelings for your late wife. I was more foolish—I let myself be blinded by infatuation and flattery into fancying myself in love. Looking back on it, I know I had no idea what being in love truly meant.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “You’re talking about Lieutenant Ruston.”
She sighed. Of course he would recognize that. “It’s neither here nor there who it was. My point is—”
“Oh no, you’re not going to escape that easily.” He bore down on her. “You said you wouldn’t tell me your secrets unless I told you mine. Well, I have. Now it’s your turn.”
“But we’re not finished with your story! I still don’t know how you ended up at art school after your wife’s death or why you’re at odds with your mother.”
“There was no reason to stay after my wife and child died,” he said blandly, “and definitely no reason to run Father’s mills. He realized that and agreed to let me leave, so I did. And I’m not at odds with my mother.”
“Liar.”
A shutter came down over his features. “Don’t read more into it than there is.”
“But Jeremy—”
“Enough.” He urged Yvette to sit on the bed, then sat beside her. “Tell me about Lieutenant Ruston.”
A pox upon it. “You’ll think me a peagoose.”
He smiled faintly. “I doubt that.”
“Youwere not the one who fell for the blandishments of a practiced scoundrel. I assume that your late wife didn’t set out to seduce you to gain your hand in marriage?”
“No, she did not. If anything, I seduced her. Why do you think I proposed marriage? I knew I was at fault. And we’re not talking about me, anyway.”
She sighed. He wasn’t going to let it go, was he? She should never have brought it up. This was what came of sharing confidences—all of one’s flaws were unveiled. “It was long ago. I’ve practically forgotten it.”
“Yes, I can see that,” he said with some sarcasm. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you. I know that the man proposed marriage when you were twenty, and I know that he was found afterward to be a fortune hunter. I also know he left Stoke Towers with his tail between his legs. I assume that your father or Blakeborough discovered his mercenary aims and had him packed off.”
“My, my, your spy Damber is quite the chatterbox, isn’t he?”
“Yvette—”
“Oh, all right.” She steadied her shoulders. “It wasn’t PapaorEdwin who sent the lieutenant away. It was Samuel. He was the one who saved me.” She lifted her gaze to Jeremy. “Why do you think I want so desperately to find his child? Because it’s the least I owe him for thwarting Lieutenant Ruston’s attempt to blackmail me.”
