“Why not? You were perfectly willing to discuss mine.”
He sighed, raising and dropping his shoulders. “Because I—” He huffed again and dropped his head. “I don’t plan to marry her.”
Ellie’s heart stopped in her chest. Had she not been holding his hands, she would have collapsed in the street. “Not—not marry her? Why not?”
“Forget I said that,” Henry said, forcing his lips into a half-hearted smile. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“I don’t think I can forget,” Ellie replied, her heart having resumed its staccato beat.
“Well, I think you should try.”
Ellie pulled her hands away from his and looked at him with narrowed eyes.
Henry flinched. “I’m sorry, El, I was rude.”
“Indeed. I didn’t deserve it.”
“You didn’t, and I’m sorry.” His shoulders drooped. “I suppose I’m tired, that’s all.”
Biting her lip, Ellie looked down and nodded. “We will retire early after dinner, then, so you can sleep.”
“I thought you wanted me to visit you again tonight.” His voice was low, almost sheepish, as though he feared her rejection.
“Oh.” Her lungs emptied completely with the sound. “After what you said, the last time we—I mean… I didn’t think you wanted to continue.”
He huffed out an indistinct sound, not quite a laugh and not quite a groan, somehow perfectly charming. “You know I’m not one to make good choices.”
“But I am.”Except when it comes to you.
Henry halted her words by leaning low and pressing a kiss to her cheek, just at the edge of her lips. He lingered for a moment too long, and her breath stumbled and caught in her chest. “Forgive me for making you think I don’t want you. I’ll always want to see you, even if we don’t touch at all. I enjoy being with you.” He hesitated. “I wish you would realize how much I enjoy you.”
The ease with which he left her breathless was staggering. “Then, if it won’t be a nuisance, I would, um, enjoy your visit.” Her time with him was precious and fleeting. After this trip, Henry would become a husband and businessman. Before long, he would be a father. His new life would not have space for a pitiful widow.
His lips brushed the same spot again before he stood, his expression unreadable with the sun at his back. What would she find if she could? Was it too much to hope for some urgency, some unrequited desire, an unspoken lust for her?
“I’m hungry,” he announced, putting his fists on his hips. “Is it too early to find a sandwich?”
Chapter 22
Henryrefusedtocometo dinner. When the time came to meet the Richardsons, Ellie waited in the parlor of their suite, knocking at his door when he did not emerge on his own.
“Henry,” she called, “are you well?”
Muffled rustling met her ears. “I am, but I have some correspondence to write. Go on without me.”
“Are you certain? Do you need—”
“I’mfine, Ellie,” he fired back, and she winced. “Please, go down.”
Ellie stepped away from the door as though burned, saying nothing as her throat tightened. Dinner was an awkward affair, the Richardsons making small talk as she fiddled with her wineglass, all three ignoring Henry’s absence until Ellie pleaded a headache to return to her room.
Her insecurity provided a wealth of reasons Henry had not joined her. She had been too short with him that morning, or had been too demanding of his presence in her bed. She was always too much or too little, never enough. Especially not enough for Henry.
When Ellie opened the door to their suite and stepped into the parlor, she found him there, seated on a chair by the banked fire. Henry stood and met her gaze, his eyes wide and searching. He was barefoot, wearing only trousers and a shirt hanging unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. His dark hair was wild, sticking in every direction. Her heart plummeted at the sight.
“Henry,” she gasped, “what’s happened?”
He pushed his hands into his hair and turned towards the open doors onto the balcony. “I was an absolute arse to you today, Ellie.”
