“I am sure she would love that. Spring is her favourite season; she says it is hope brought to life,” Lady Bellmore said.
“A sentiment I would agree with. In spring, the gardens are stunning. I used to love to hide in the middle of it all, lying in the grass and staring at the sky. It felt as though I were some tiny insect, lying in the face of all creation. It makes one appreciate how truly magical it all is.” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling at the memory of being a boy and watching the clouds amble through the sky as birds trilled their songs around him.
“What a romantic notion,” Lady Bellmore murmured. “Almost poetic.”
Her words made him think of Charlotte’s the day before. He smiled as he pictured her teasing him, her characteristic mix of exasperation and amusement as he spouted bad poetry at her.She has such a pretty smile.
“You seem distracted.” Lady Bellmore’s voice brought him back to the present.
“My apologies, dear lady.” Dominic smiled at her.
“No need to apologise. I find young lovers can be rather easily lost in their own thoughts.” Lady Bellmore gave him a curious look.
Dominic swallowed, feeling as though he were treading on dangerous ground.We are not lovers, though; this is only a means to an end.“I suppose it can be rather intoxicating.”
“It is nice to see young people so easily distracted. It reminds me that there is still so much joy in the world.” She gestured around them, indicating the flowers in bloom. “I was much the same when I first met John; the smallest memory would bring a smile to my face, often without me even realising. In truth, thinking of him still does.”
“You sound very much in love,” Dominic said.
“We are.” Lady Bellmore frowned. “Though it is easy enough to forget such things in the face of life and society.”
Dominic did not know what to say. They walked in silence for a moment longer.
“You care for my daughter a great deal, do you not?” Lady Bellmore asked.
“Of course, I do; after all, she is my fiancée,” he said. “I want her to be happy.”
“And what if she were not your fiancée? Would you care for her then?” Lady Bellmore looked at him, her eyes seeming to bore into his.
“Yes.” To his surprise he found that he meant it.When had that happened?
“Even if her happiness was found in another’s arms?” She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.
He felt as though someone had punched him hard in the stomach, like some force had driven all breath from his lungs. His mind summoned up the image of Charlotte with some faceless man, and his heart seemed to constrict.
But that is your future — a future apart from one another. That should be her future — someone she can grow old with and be merry with for the rest of her days.He swallowed and said, “If that was what she truly desired, then so be it.”
“You would not fight for her?” The woman canted her head towards him.
“I would not seek to keep something that had no wish to be there.” Dominic tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice came out brittle and hard.
In his mind’s eye, he saw his younger self, pleading with his mother, begging her to live.Choose me, I am still here. Live for me.If even his own mother had not chosen him, what hope would he have that anyone else would?
Lady Bellmore tapped the tip of her finger against her lips, pursing them in thought. After a moment, she said, “A word of advice, dear Duke.”
“Yes?”
“For all that Charlotte pretends to be a cool and calculating pragmatist, that is not actually what her heart desires.” She began to walk away from him. “She does not wish for cold and empty, nor does she long for passion without substance.”
“What does she want?” Dominic called after her.
“What all women want: to be chosen by someone worthy,” she called over her shoulder.
He felt an odd thrill at the woman’s words but ignored it.She is only seeing what we have made her believe, nothing more. It is not like she and Charlotte are close, so why would she know the truth of her heart?
He shook his head, pondering on the strange conversation. He wandered aimlessly and found himself thinking of Charlotte and the way they had spoken the day before.
I am not worthy of her.His chest tightened, and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as if to reaffirm just how unworthy he was. He clutched at his side and sat down, his heart thundering.
