She ducked her head, ashamed to look him in the eye.“Jeremy would have hated that I tried to manipulate you. I’m so sorry, Christian. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”
His leather-clad fingers tipped her chin, forcing her to look at him. She saw only understanding and warmth in his gaze. Her heart cracked under the weight of her own guilt, and the love she felt for him.
“He was your husband. And the army abandoned him after he made the ultimate sacrifice. No woman of spirit could accept such a betrayal. You had no choice but to search for answers.”
“I was so angry,” she said.
“With me or with the army?”
She grimaced. “With Jeremy. For leaving me.” How petty and selfish that anger seemed now.
Christian rubbed a soothing hand along the back of her neck. “He didn’t want to. You were in his thoughts every waking moment. Never doubt that.”
A rush of emotions tightened her throat. Christian, the most selfless man she had ever known, sincerely mourned Jeremy’s death. In a flash, she understood Christian would have spared her the grief of widowhood if it had been in his power, even though it meant he could never be with her.
What a gift she had been given, to have won the love of two such men in a single lifetime.
“Jeremy was a man of honor,” she said. “He always tried to do the right thing, no matter the cost. I was wrong to try to hold him back.”
“You loved him,” he said, as if that explained everything.
She supposed it did, but only Christian understood that. He had never once judged her for hating the war, or for hating what it had done to her life.
“How can I ever thank you?” she asked, fighting back tears.
He lifted his eyebrows, as if surprised by her question. “I should think it was obvious, Ladybird. You can marry me.”
The breath rushed from her lungs, and she almost staggered. It just might kill her to refuse him, but she had no choice.
“I can’t,” she choked out in a miserable voice. “You’re too—”
“Oh, Lord,” he groaned, cutting her off. “Not that again. You certainly didn’t think I was too young when we made love.”
She flushed, both from embarrassment and from the heated remembrance of his touch. “Christian! You mustn’t say such things, especially not here.”
He scoffed, then sat and pulled her onto his lap. He ignored her protests and her feeble attempts to get up.
“Clarissa, you employ your age as an excuse to put me off,” he said in a serious voice. “Damn few will give a hang about that, and you know it. Tell me what’s really bothering you.”
She fiddled with the starched linen of his cravat. His hand covered hers, stilling her restless fingers.
“Youaretoo young, but not in the way you think,” she blurted out.
He frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re still young enough to be reckless. You’ll take dreadful risks in battle to advance your military career. Just like Jeremy. I think that’s why he volunteered for the Forlorn Hope at Badajoz. I’ve already lost one husband to that kind of reckless behavior. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another.”
Christian rubbed his chin, silent for a moment. “I can’t be sure why Jeremy made that choice. All I can do is speak to my own experience. I’m not prone to foolish acts, and I’m not going to risk my life simply to garner notice or glory. I promise you that, love. I’ve been at war for eight long years. It’s a bloody and ugly business, with damn little glory. I do my duty and I do it well, but I seek no honors.Not ones that ultimately mean little more than a piece of ribbon and a medal pinned to a coat.”
Hope stirred in her chest, like the faint hint of the breaking dawn.
“Do you mean that?” She couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice.
He captured her face in his hands, feathering a kiss across her lips. She clutched the lapels of his coat, aching for more.
A few breathless moments later, he drew back. “Trust me. I’m very good at soldiering. It’s what I do.” He rubbed his nose against hers, and she laughed.
“And I promise I’ll always come home to you,” he finished, making it sound like a vow.
