“I couldn’t tell you at first,” she said. “I barely knew you. It’s not something I would ever talk about with a stranger. Then, when things started to progress between us, I simply forgot about it when we were together.”
“Forgot about it.” His tone suggested he didn’t believe her. Then he faced the window again. “Have you told me everything?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? There is nothing else I should know about? Because whoever sent this telegram knows about what happened, and if you are guilty in any way....”
“I am not guilty.”
“You’re telling the truth?”
“Yes!”
Clara wondered again if he was hurt. If he was, he certainly wasn’t showing it. He was focusing on the facts, not his feelings. She should not be surprised.
“Who do you think would have sent this?” he asked. “And why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Perhaps it was your jilted lover.”
“Perhaps.” She hated to hear him use the wordloverto describe another man.
Seger paced about the room, considering everything. “Do you realize that in my position, I would be perfectly justified to call off our wedding?”
His coarse words cut painfully into her heart. She nodded.
“But we have already made love,” he continued, “and you were, as it turned out, a virgin.” He paced the room, thinking for a long time.
Clara waited nervously for him to make a decision. What would it be? He had been hurt once before by a woman. Perhaps he felt defeated again. Powerless. Perhaps he was disappointed in Clara and would not be able to forgive her. Or maybe this turn of events had spooked him and reminded him of why he had spent the past eight years avoiding marriage.
This was torture.
At last, he stopped pacing. “I believe we are tied to each other,” he said.
Clara closed her eyes. Of course, that was how he would see this—as if she had roped and bound him and he could no longer get away. He would not speak of hurt feelings or disappointments. He would speak only of the necessity of duty and obligation.
“It was not my intention to trap you,” she said. “And you’re free to go if you want to. I won’t hold you to your proposal.” It was her pride talking because the last thing she wanted was to lose him.
He did not respond to that. He merely went on as if she had not spoken. “I am hardly in the position to call the kettle black, so we will be married as planned. And I hope that this matter will not arise again after today, and that whoever sent this telegram will let it die. If not, and there is a scandal, then I will deal with it.”
“I don’t wish to be a problem you have to deal with,” she said.
“Scandal is rarely a problem for me. I’ve learned that one can be perfectly happy outside of society. Sometimes I wonder why I ever wanted to get back in. Oh, yes. Because of desire.”
And now because of obligation. Clara’s mood sank.
He came around the sofa and stared down at her with cool, detached eyes. “We must simply put this behind us, Clara. You are a beautiful woman and I still desire you.”
Was that all? A basic physical attraction? Had this conversation spoiled their chances for anything deeper?
She felt as if she had taken one step forward with Seger—they were getting married after all—but two steps back as far as true intimacy was concerned.
Finally, a small fragment of affection found its way back into his eyes, and he kissed her hand. “I will see you in a few hours?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
