Page 58 of The Ones Left Behind
“Have I not just said so?”
“I suppose so, in a roundabout way. Would you please stop so we may discuss this properly?” Kitty said in growing exasperation. This was probably the most important conversation she would ever have.
He stopped and looked at her, and the raw hurt in his face told her all she needed to know.
She stepped forward and put her arms around him, not caring who saw, although conveniently, a quick glance told her no one appeared to be nearby at that moment. She felt his tension release. Dropping one of his crutches, he pulled her close.
“Please, let this be real,” he whispered in her ear.
She gave a nod against his chest but hugged him tightly.
“I realize we have changed,” he admitted, his voice cracking, “but I have always loved you. Whether or not you can love me in the same way, I need you to let me protect you, if nothing more. Maybe, one day, you will even be able to love me fully too. Kitty, there is no one else I can marry when my heart belongs to you.”
Her throat was so tight with emotion that she could not speak.
“I want you to bear my children.”
She had to find her voice. “And if I cannot?” She looked up into his eyes, which were brimming with tears. Almost without her knowledge, her hand reached up to touch his face.
“Then we will have each other, and will have to pray that Henry manages to reform himself and that Worth’s son lives. I would rather live the rest of my life with you, alone, than be surrounded by children and wishing I had done more to persuade you. Five years I’ve had of that hell, and believe me, I should rather trade places with Peter than go through that again.”
“It is harder to be left behind, sometimes,” she reflected. “I have often thought he took the easy way out.”
“Please, Kitty,” he pleaded. “We may take our time learning each other again once we are wed.”
“I, too, could not bear to marry another. Some offered after Peter’s death.”
“But I never did,” he said regretfully. “I did not think it was proper at the time. It seemed dishonourable to Peter.”
“Though I still loved you, it would have been too soon,” she agreed. Nevertheless, she reflected, it would have been nice to have known his feelings. She did not care to think of the hell she had gone through.
“I also thought you preferred Peter. It was a hard blow. I had expected you to wait for me.”
“Do you not see how impossible that was? If you had heard what your father said” She eased out of his arms and shook her head. “I did not feel worthy of you. I was a ‘traitor’ and I would ‘ruin your life.’”
Matthias cursed his father soundly. Kitty smiled faintly; she had heard far worse in camps across Europe.
“Is it possible to begin again? I know we cannot offer ourselves the same young, free spirits we were, but I think we can find happiness again, together.”
“Yes. We can begin again and let our hearts be our guides.”
CHAPTER16
Matthias should have been open with her before, he saw that now. The joy at that one simple word caused his heart to flip inside his chest. His euphoria was inexplicable.
“Kitty.” He pulled her back into his arms, ignoring the pain shooting daggers up his leg and the twitching weakness in his thigh. None of that mattered.
He cradled her head and angled his mouth over hers, allowing five years of love, heartbreak, pain and grief to flow between them and start healing. She responded in kind and returned his kiss with an intensity that set him aflame.
“To think I almost allowed you to go,” he said at last when she retrieved his other crutch and gave it to him. She waited while he placed it under his arm, adjusting her step to accompany him as he began the awkward gait back to the picnic. At this very moment, he would love to be able to run and shout the news from the highest hill above the valley, but such antics would set his convalescence back weeks if not months—always supposing he did not fall into an ungraceful heap with the first step.
“Peter loved me,” she said carefully, “in the manner of a sister or best friend. It was not quite impersonal, but there was no deeper feeling. Nonetheless, he was kind to me and ours was a comfortable relationship. Loving you as I do, I could not bear it if our marriage was the same.”
“And because of my father’s treatment of you, and my apparent rejection, you thought my offer to be the same as Peter’s?”
“Precisely. Can you blame me?”
“I blame myself.” At least he understood a little. Though it would take time to heal all their wounds.
