“And I think…I would like to have something of my own. A family and children. I would rather have those things than not have them.”
Regardless of how the marriage started, regardless of whether she and her husband were in love with each other. She was telling him, in so many words, that she’d made her decision. And Robert, who had gotten them in this situation in the first place, who had ruined her chances, didn’t feel like he could do anything other than acquiesce. Not if he wanted to keep his conscience intact. Not if he wanted to act with honor.
Robert’s chest was tight. So tight that he could barely breathe. So tight that it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
Saying the words would irrevocably break something between him and Ian. He had no doubt of it.
But he also didn’t feel like he had a choice.
“Then will you marry me, Miss Worthington?”
She nodded. “I’ll marry you.”
There was no kiss. No laughter. Not even a smile or a touch. There was only the agreement between two people who respected each other that they would do their best to salvage a hopeless situation.
…
Robert delayed seeing Ian, telling Ian, because he still held on to the fast-vanishing hope that there might be a way to resolve everything that didn’t involve a marriage of convenience.
And then, suddenly, he did think of a way. He was on his way back from a long ride when it struck him in a blinding flash—Hale. Abruptly, all of John Hale’s little looks and actions came together in a vivid picture—the way he’d glanced at Alice during the game of billiards, the pain on his face after Robert had been caught in her bedchamber, the discord between Hale and his uncle—it all pointed toward one thing.
Near Llynmore, he came across Georgina, walking by herself on the trail.
“George!” he gasped, reining the horse to a stop before he swung down.
“Are you all right?”
He probably looked a fright, but he didn’t really care. “Hale is in love with Miss Worthington, isn’t he?”
Georgina blinked. “Isn’t that obvious?”
He stared at her. Obvious? He didn’t think there was anything obvious about it. But then again, his attention had been taken up by someone else whenever they’d all been together.
“Wait…are you telling me it just occurred to you?” She sounded incredulous. “You must be completely oblivious.”
Robert waved her off. “Now is not the time for insults, George. Does Miss Worthington feel the same way toward him?”
Georgina sighed. “I couldn’t say. Miss Worthington is not quite so telling with her emotions. But I daresay one husband she’s vaguely fond of will do quite as well as the other—she doesn’t seem to dislike him, at least.”
“She said she wanted someone to choose her…but Hale…well, if he was going to do something, shouldn’t he have done it by now?”
And therein laid the problem. The only way he could call off the wedding without being a complete cad was if Alice married someone else instead, but John Hale, whether he loved her or not, obviously wasn’t willing to ask her.
Yet.
“He doesn’t really seem the type to take risks,” Georgina agreed. “And he’s intimidated by Mr. Worthington. He may need a little encouragement.”
“I can do that,” Robert said quickly. He’d helped John Hale before, albeit over a much smaller matter. But if he really, truly loved Alice, maybe Hale just needed a push in the right direction.
And maybe Robert could give him that.
Maybe the situation wasn’t quite as hopeless as he’d thought.
Chapter Twenty
Somehow, Georgina and Robert managed to persuade Mr. Hale and Miss Worthington to go on a walk while the others stayed behind. It was cloudy, the landscape light gray and lush green, meeting on a far-off horizon. Occasional flashes of bright blue tried to emerge from behind the clouds, but the sky never quite managed to shake off its shroud.
They passed by the outbuilding where Robert and Ian had stargazed and where Robert had kissed him for the first time. The remembrance hit him with enough force to knock his breath away. He could still feel Ian’s mouth against his lips, the fabric of his coat clenched in his fists. It was a permanent sensation now, etched bone deep, branded like a tattoo.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Hale draw a breath to speak to Miss Worthington and then slam his mouth shut abruptly, pink tingeing his cheeks. He fell behind to walk with Georgina instead, and with a sigh, Robert took his place beside Miss Worthington.
This might take more effort than he’d assumed.
He offered his arm, and Miss Worthington placed her gloved hand on his elbow.
They made some idle small talk until the conversation turned to billiards and Robert could bring up Mr. Hale without seeming too eager.
“He’s improved greatly,” he said after glancing back to make sure the man in question was out of earshot. “A little confidence goes a long way.”
“He’s still quite shy, though,” Miss Worthington said.
“There’s nothing wrong with being shy, is there?” Robert said lightly.
“No. Not as long as one can still stand up for oneself when it matters.”
“You’ve known Mr. Hale for some time. You must be close?”
“Not as close as we once were.”
“Oh?”
“We were inseparable when we were children, but eventually my father found it inappropriate. Everything is innocent when one is seven or eight, but at some point—I think I had just turned twelve or thirteen—my father put his foot down and said I couldn’t keep spending time alone with a boy.” Miss Worthington laughed softly. “He was my closest friend, you know. Sometimes I could look at him and know exactly what he was thinking, without words at all. It’s not like that anymore.”
Was that a hint of wistfulness? Or was Robert only hearing what he wanted to hear?
“I’m surprised there was never talk of a match between you.”
“Mr. Hale is planning to become a law clerk…I think my own parents had loftier aspirations for my marriage.”
“And what about you?”
“I don’t care about that so much. But there would have been other problems, I think. I don’t know if I could be with a man who couldn’t stand up to my father.”
That wasn’t promising.
He started to speak, but the sound of voices stopped him. He looked up, and realized, unintentionally, he’d led them straight to Ian—like a wanderer following the North Star. The other man was on a ladder, removing burned thatching from the roof of his destroyed cottage.
He was in dark-brown trousers, work boots, and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and forearms streaked with soot.
There were two other men helping him with the repairs, tenants of Llynmore, and Robert felt his heart ache. He would have helped Ian. He should have been the one helping him. One of the other men noticed them and said something to Ian, who paused, glancing over his shoulder.
Unerringly, he found Robert first. Then his gaze drifted down, to where Miss Worthington’s hand rested on Robert’s arm. His expression didn’t change. It was like stone, cold and immovable.
Robert felt his heart fall with the weight of lead. He needed to reach Ian, needed to explain.
Ian said something to the man and climbed down the ladder.
Robert’s feet moved, some force that was stronger than himself pulling him forward like an ocean tide, drawing Miss Worthington in his wake.
“I needed to speak to you about something. Privately.” Robert remembered at the last moment that he had walking companions. “Go on ahead,” he told the group. “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
Georgina shot him a strange look as they passed but didn’t comment.
Ian thanked the other men for their help and they went on their way, which left Robert alone with Ian for the first time since he and Alice had agreed to marry, the moors and the silence surrounding them.
Chapter Twenty-One
Looking at Robert was like looking at the sun—it was difficult not to, but it was painful. It didn’t hurt Ian’s eyes—it hurt down to his soul.