Page 66 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
Eleanor stared at him in horror. He was sobbing, his shoulders shaking, and she could not help it. Her heart ached to see him in pain. She went to him and took his fingers in her own. He didn’t try to withdraw. She stood with him as he cried and told her the story.
“She died having the child. They both died. Nobody told me more. I never knew...never knew what really happened. All I know is that they died. They were at the cottage...a property of ours near London. I sold it. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to remember it.” He was still crying, and Eleanor felt her heart twist. She could not imagine the pain he was in.
“Sometimes women die,” she whispered. “It can happen. We both know that.”
“I know,” Sebastian sobbed. “But...but don’t you see? It wasn’t just an accident. If...if Aunt Tessa is right, it was the curse. It was my fault. She died...because of me. Because it was my child.”
Eleanor drew a deep breath. She understood why he had not wanted to talk about Aunt Tessa’s beliefs about the curse. It made sense. She swallowed hard. His hand was tight on her fingers, and she wrapped it in both of her own.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly. “You didn’t make the curse. You didn’t lay it on your family. Even if there isone,” she added gently. “It was not your fault. And you don’t know...perhaps she would have died anyway. Even if it wasn’t your child. Some women just have a hard time in childbirth.”
“You believe that?” Sebastian gazed at her, his eyes wide and round.
“Yes,” Eleanor said firmly. “I believe that, even if there are such things as curses, they can only go so far. I believe God has a plan, and that no curse is stronger than His plan.”
“You...you’re right.” Sebastian sniffed. He drew a deep breath and slowly stopped crying.
Eleanor drew a deep breath. “I know that wasn’t why it happened.”
Sebastian sniffed again, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. “Mayhap you’re right,” he said, and she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face. “I can’t argue with your logic.”
She grinned. “Good.”
He took a deep breath. “But you really think she would have died anyway?”
“I can’t know that for sure, of course,” Eleanor replied. “But I do believe that, very firmly.”
Sebastian took another deep breath. “Good,” he whispered.
She smiled at him again, and he held her gaze, his own gaze not as troubled as it had been.
“You know, now that I can think about it like that, I feel less guilty. And I can be honest. I didn’t really like her.” He sniffed. “I know...that sounds terrible. But at first, I believed I was in love. I was two and twenty. Not terribly young, but not very old either.” He smiled and after a brief pause, related further. “She was...well, also young, and lighthearted and pretty, and I thought that she was different because she didn’t seem overawed by my title. She was demanding and pettish, and I liked that, because it seemed like she wasn’t in awe of me. But then I found there was no other side to her—that was what she was like.Demanding, pettish, spoiled and self-interested. She had not overlooked my title, or my wealth—those two things were very important to her. Her family are the ones I blame.” He paused and took a deep breath. “A baron’s daughter has no need to be so obsessed with social advancement, but she was. Her family primed her. And I was the best means to advance. That was all.” He took another breath.
“That was not kind of them,” she murmured.
He nodded. “No, it was not. I promised to support her when I found out what had happened. Of course, I did. I would not have left her penniless, cast out of society. I would never do that.” He sounded desperate. “But her family insisted that I wed her when the child was born, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t wish to.” He sniffed. “Maybe that was wrong. But then, when they died...I felt terrible.” He whispered. “I felt so awful because I felt as though it was my fault, as if I might have wished it on them simply because I was so set against it. I should not have been relieved.”
“Of course, you were,” Eleanor murmured. “I understand.”
“Good.”
He held her gaze.
She took a deep breath. She wanted to find some words to reassure him, but he continued before she could say anything more.
“I was sure it was my fault; sure that I had brought the curse on them. I hated myself and I never wanted to risk being close to anyone. I never wanted to feel that hurt again.”
“I understand,” she murmured.
He smiled. “I was foolish, then.” He paused. “Because I met you. And, from the moment I met you, I could not help but feel close to you. You enchanted me from the first minute.”
“I did?” she smiled. In spite of herself, she blushed.
“You did. You hated me,” he said with a chuckle. “But itwasn’t that which encouraged me. It was how witty you were. How funny. I laughed so much that day, and I had thought I would not laugh again. I laughed often at parties, with my friends. But it was not real laughter—not like that. I’ll never forget that day. It was the first time I forgot my worries.”
“You were quite insistent about seeing me,” she remembered.
“I was. I wanted to make you cross with me; just a bit. Just to see how you’d react. But I also wanted to see you. I felt drawn to you. I wanted to talk to you and laugh and feel that real joy.”
