Page 25 of The Baron's Return
Abigail shrugged. “On occasion, but they’re not a common occurrence. I’m sure the only thing keeping her up tonight will be her excitement about coming to live with you.”
He stared at her, his gaze boring into her very soul. Finally his head tilted to one side and his voice lowered. “And you?”
Her hand fluttered to her chest. “What about me?”
He took a step closer. “Are you excited about coming to live with me?”
She wanted desperately to say yes, but uncertainty gripped her. So instead, she took a step back.
“I am happy to be here, yes. But…” She shook her head, feeling more than a little silly. “I don’t know how to proceed.”
He arched a brow and she blushed. “I’m not referring to that. What I mean to say is that I’m not sure what you want me to do. I assume you’ll want me to oversee the running of the household. Should I meet with the housekeeper now? She’ll know your preferences, and I don’t plan on changing anything—”
Her mouth snapped closed when he let out an impatient laugh.
“Perhaps you should sit down and take a breath. The house isn’t going to fall into chaos if you don’t take control this very minute. And there are other things we need to discuss.”
She nodded and moved to the plush settee covered in dark green velvet, where she perched on the edge of the seat. A long time ago she’d dreamed of being in this house as Gideon’s wife. She shouldn’t be feeling nervous now that it had finally happened.
She waited for him to speak, content to allow him to lead this discussion.
He settled into a matching armchair. “I’ve had some time to think since you walked back into my life and turned it upside down.”
She closed her eyes briefly. She couldn’t deny that his description of their reunion was accurate, but her motivation hadn’t been a calculated one. She’d only wanted to right a wrong. “I—”
He held up a hand and she stopped. “I wasn’t making an accusation. I was simply stating the truth.”
He leaned back in the chair and she waited, her nerves stretched taut.
“Not long after I entered military service, I received a letter from my mother. She was very distraught because my father’s luck had turned at the gambling tables.”
She froze. What did he know? She’d always assumed he was unaware of the extent of his father’s gambling losses that spring.
“She told me that they were going to lose this town house. That he’d gambled it away. But apparently that never came to pass. She sent another letter soon after to tell me that everything had been settled.”
He steepled his fingers, his eyes boring into her. She tried not to flinch under that steady gaze.
“At the time I thought she’d misunderstood the situation. Or that she’d exaggerated and painted circumstances as being dire to convince me to give up my commission and return home. Father liked to gamble, but he always knew when to quit.”
She licked her lips. “I’m pleased to hear that. And clearly, since you’re now in possession of this house, that never happened.”
He didn’t drop the subject. “I’ve looked into the matter this past week. When I returned to England, I vowed to leave the past behind me and think only about the present. But finding out I was a father changed everything. I needed to know the truth behind what happened all those years ago. With my family and with you.”
Her heart was beginning to race now. “You could have asked me.”
“True. But we both know I wouldn’t have believed anything you told me. You’ve already lied to me so well in the past, only I couldn’t be sure about what. Were you lying when you told me you loved me and that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me? Or were you lying when you said that as someone who would only ever be a lowly baron, I wasn’t good enough to wed?”
His words stabbed her like a dagger to the heart because they were true. She had lied to him. “I never lied about loving you.”
He was silent for almost a full minute, and she feared her heart would burst out of her chest. Finally he nodded. “I believe you.”
His words should have brought her happiness, but his tone was flat. Her worst fears had been realized. That even if he knew—and believed—the truth, it would no longer matter.
“But that doesn’t change anything.”
“I can’t go through that again, Abigail. You’ve already crushed my heart once. I won’t give it to you again. No, that’s not true. I can’t give it to you. That part of me died the evening I lost you.”
She’d told herself that nothing she said or did would change the way Cranston looked at her now. But in truth, nothing could prepare her for the pain lancing through her at his words. Again. He’d lost her all those years ago, yes, but she’d also lost him. And now she was losing the last of her hope.
