“Never mind.”
She frowned, looking at him. “Tell me, please.”
“I just wonder. It is obvious you love your nephew.” She nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. “Have you forgiven your brother for what he did to you?”
She frowned in confusion, then lowered her head. “I haven’t. Perhaps I’ll never be able to. It’s terribly uncharitable of me, I know, especially because he’s now dead and has thus paid for his sins. But I can’t help the resentment.”
“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “But what he did to you is so much worse. And yet that resentment doesn’t seem to color your feelings for his child.”
She cut a quick glance at him, lowering her eyes almost immediately. “I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t occurred to me that my brother only thought to rescue me when he needed me to raise his son.”
“I sense a but coming up.”
Her smile was sad, so sad that it nearly broke his heart. “But just look at him. He is an innocent little child in need of love. He’s not at fault for his father’s sins.”
“I know that. But when I saw the two of you playing together, I couldn’t help but think…”
“What?”
He looked directly at her. Wanting to see her eyes but also allowing her to see into his. Making himself vulnerable in the process.
“I couldn’t help but think that it should be your child. Our child. That if it had not been for your brother’s crime, we would have been married these past twelve years, and we would probably have children of our own.”
Her gaze lowered at his first sentence. Now it turned away from him, completely avoiding his eyes.
“What ifs are useless. I learned long ago not to dwell on them. If I had, I would have gone mad by now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Her hand trembled as she grabbed another piece of fruit, this time a red strawberry that looked like a heart, and offered it to the child. It seemed strangely symbolic. Her nephew grabbed the fruit greedily with chubby little hands and brought it to his mouth, chewing happily, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents around him.
He hated that he had caused her such distress. That he had come out here to taint the moment of carefree happiness she was enjoying. God, it seemed all he did around this woman was blunder. But he was trying to get to something. Albeit in a very ham-handed way.
“Don’t you still wish for those things, Josephine?”
Her sharp intake of breath was answer enough. But the words that followed were like a stiletto piercing his chest and slicing his heart.
“No. I’ve learned to accept fate and resign myself to my lot. Edward is like my own. The only blood relative I have left. The child I will never have.”
He had to swallow past the fist that had lodged on his throat. “Josie, it doesn’t have to be that way, if you wanted—”
“Don’t.” Her response was sharp, interrupting his mangled proposal. “We’ve been over this. Don’t you know it’s rude to insist when a lady has refused your suit?”
“I would desist if I thought you didn’t want me. But I know what once was is still there. I feel it beating between us, Josie.”
She stood abruptly and turned away from him, avoiding his gaze. “You are mistaken.”
He circled to face her once again.
“I am not.” His voice came out too sharp, heavy with frustration. He took a deep breath, gentling his tone. “Josie, we already had twelve years stolen from us. I refuse to give up this second chance life has given us without a very good reason.”
“Isn't the fact that I’ve been ruined enough? Men in your position don’t marry women like me.”
“Women like you?” He repeated, dumbfounded.
“Women who have been despoiled. Violated. Used and discarded like a whore. I’m spoiled goods.”
Her voice broke on the last sentence, but his heart shattered to ever smaller pieces with each word. How could she not see her worth? His eyes stung with tears he didn’t even try to hide. He had known. Of course he had known. But to hear her say it…
