Page 58 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
Josephine’s temper flared. “And what mistake would that be, Your Lordship?”
“Marrying Greeves would be a mistake, Josephine. You were meant for better things.”
“And what is that?”
“You were meant for me.”
She stared stunned into the beseeching face before her. “You? The man who has spent nearly the entirety of our lives telling me that a romantic life between us was impossible? The man who told me to move on and marry another as he intended to marry a more appropriate bride? The man who, no matter how hard I cried, nearly destroyed our friendship by purposefully keeping his distance from me?” By this point, she was shouting near hysteria.
“Yes, I did do all of those things, but I have seen the error of my ways, Josephine. I have come to realize that you are more important to me than the ruin of mine or my family’s reputation.”
“The ruin of your reputation? You speak as though you were attempting to woo a harlot instead of your dearest friend in all the world.”
“Josephine I did not mean to offend you.” He reached out to touch her, and she jerked away.
Abigail stirred in her arms waking to look up at her with concern. Josephine soothed her back to sleep turning away from Frederick. She pulled a blanket from the clothesline and laid it down on the ground in the shade, then placed Abigail down upon it. She whimpered, and Josephine caressed her cheek in sympathy. “Shh, all is well. Sleep sweet, dear Abigail.” She pulled the corner of the blanket up over the little girl’s sleeping form, then turned back to Frederick.
“Josephine, please?” he pleaded.
“Why, Frederick? Why after all of this time?”
“I realized that I loved you.”
“You love me? That is your realization? Frederick, you have loved me our entire lives. You chose to ignore it to preserve your family’s name because you agreed with societal strictures of your class and believed me to be beneath you. My station has not changed, and yet you expect me to believe that after all of these years you are at last inclined to overlook my lowly birth because you finally realized that you love me?”
Josephine was so angry that she felt as though her face was aflame. Her head spun around and around dizzily.
“Josephine what has happened?” a masculine voice asked from behind her. She turned to find that Owen had heard her shrieking, jumped the stream, and come running concerned for her wellbeing. “My Lord, what brings you to our humble farm?”
“His Lordship was just leaving,” Josephine insisted giving Frederick a pointed look of warning to do as she asked and not make any more of a scene than had already occurred. Her mind was whirling, and she could not bear for anything more to transpire. She needed space and time to breathe.
“Josephine, please…”
“Good day, Your Lordship,” Josephine cut him off and laid her hand on Owen’s arm. “Owen and I have a wedding to plan.”
Owen’s handsome features lit up with joy as he took her hand in his. “Truly, Josephine?”
“Yes, Owen, truly.”
Owen swooped her up into his arms and swung her about. He set her back on her feet and tucked her against his side. “Forgive me, My Lord, but she has just made me the happiest man in England and such joy cannot be contained.”
“Of course. I apologize for the interruption. Clearly, this is a time to be with family. You have my deepest congratulations, Mr. Greeves, Miss Merton.” Frederick bowed stiffly to Josephine, mounted his horse, and rode away, his back ramrod straight.
Chapter 27
Frederick felt as though his entire being had been shattered. Josephine’s words rang through his mind in sharp, harsh clarity. He went over everything he had said and knew that he had gone about it all wrong. His fear that he had waited too long to tell her how he felt had led him to speak with reckless disregard for her own feelings. He had hurt her for years refusing her love and yet he had just expected her to happily fall into his arms.
I am a fool.
He rode hard back toward Chescrown. His hurt and anger were causing him to urge the horse forward as fast as it would go. Realizing he was being too hard on the animal he took mercy and slowed down. Sometime later, he stopped by a stream to allow his horse to drink. Dismounting, he sat down beneath a tree and watched the water flowing over the rocks. Across the streambed, wildflowers blew lazily in the breeze. The image reminded him of the crown of flowers in Josephine’s hair.
She is so beautiful.
He closed his eyes and traced her petite features, marveled at the black depths of her eyes, as he imagined running his fingers through her sun-kissed scarlet hair. Her skin was still pale from her long illness, but she had otherwise appeared to have recovered. His heart ached for the sight and feel of her.How much heartache can one man take without breaking?Opening his eyes, a single tear slipped down his cheek. Surprised he swatted at the offending liquid.Steady on, old chap,he chastised himself.
Rising, he mounted his horse and continued on. It took every bit of his strength not to turn back around, grab Josephine, and carry her off to Scotland. He had heard stories of Scottish highlanders snatching their brides and carrying them off to wed. At that moment in time, he envied them the freedom to do so. He shook the thought from his head, ashamed of himself. He would never do anything to harm Josephine, and he respected her right to choose who she married.
The strain of the last months had left its mark, and he was not sure how much more loss he could take. Without Josephine in his life, a large part of him wished to do as his mother had done and run away. He thought of Paulo’s advice about love as a passionate, fiery affair.
