Page 55 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“I want to apologize for worrying you.” She rubbed her palms against her sides. “And I am sorry as well for the things that I said earlier today.”
“You—”
“Please let me finish.”
When he kept silent, she continued, “Mary and Claire told me about your mother. About how she died. I’m so sorry. Had I known I would have… I would have understood your reaction to us in the snow—and to me after you rescued my carriage. I want you to know that I regret the things I said. I’m sorry.”
The silence lasted for a long moment. Dahlia felt that she had said all that she needed to say about what happened. She hoped it was enough for him to understand her as well. For indeed, she did not think she could bear to have things remain as there were.
Peter studied Dahlia’s face. The vulnerability in her eyes, the soft line of her lips spoke of her sincerity, and this melted his aloof mien. Taking a deep breath, he let his shoulders relax and then moved sideways on the pianoforte bench. He gestured with his hand for her to sit beside to him.
“I may have overreacted when I saw the three of you buried in snow?—”
“We were notburiedin snow.”
He looked at her, silently asking for her to listen.
“I am not quite sure what happened, but at that moment, I could not think clearly. Just like in the carriage, after the hijacking. It felt as if things were happening all over again, and I had to stop them from happening.”
“What happened to your mother was not your doing. No one could have known, Peter. Blaming yourself will only prolong the pain.”
She surprised him when she laid her hand on top of his. Her warm palm reassuring him that all was well. Looking at her hand, Peter thought she might just be the kindest person he knew.
“I saw her in you, during the carriage hijacking—that is why I was so angry at you after.”
“Peter, you saved me. You and Matteo.” She waited for him to look at her, when he did, she continued, “That will not erase the pain of losing your mother, but please know that I am here now because of your actions. Please take some consolation in that, no matter how small.”
Her words felt like a benediction to his bruised heart.
“And you must learn to forgive yourself. Your love for her must be greater than your guilt or sorrow.”
Peter rested his elbows on his knees and gave a shuddering breath. How could Dahlia know so quickly the contents of his heart? In one afternoon, she was able to make him see that he was worthy of redemption. It would take a while, but Peter believed that he was ready to forgive himself.
Mother would have loved you.
He suddenly chuckled.
“I think I scared my sisters.”
He looked at her inquiringly, and she shook her head.
“I assure you that you did not. In fact, they were mostly worried about you. They—we—all looked for you during dinner.”
“Again, I apologize for not sending word. We had a few problems with a tenant’s roof, and it took quite a while to sort it out. I should have sent word,” he added again.
Looking once again at the hand that still rested atop his, he wondered if it would it be too much to hope for peace between them?
Is it peace that I want?
He had a sudden urge to hold her hand. As if of its own accord, his hand turned over, his fingers laced with hers. He watched her. Dahlia drew in a small, sharp breath but remained still.
“Dahlia,” he said after a moment. “Do you think we can move forward? Our arrangement, I know, is quite unorthodox, but the holidays are not so far away, and I would very much like to have some peace and quiet.”
He gently squeezed her hand.
“When I said that this marriage will allow for you to come and go as you please, they were not merely words. I mean to keep that promise.”
“Hmm,” was Dahlia’s only reply.
