And all because of him.
Richard.
She pressed her lips together, trying not to think of the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, or the warmth of his hand on her waist as they’d danced. When he had looked at her—trulylooked at her—it had felt as though she’d finally been seen. And for one impossible moment, she had believed she could belong somewhere other than where duty had placed her.
But none of that mattered now.
She was going home.
So why did it feel as though her home was no longer a place, but a person?
She let out a choked laugh at the absurdity of it. Madness. She was being utterly mad. He had insulted her, cast her aside, and sent her away without even granting her the courtesy to tell him the whole truth. She should be grateful to be rid of him. She should feel relieved.
But instead, she felt as if she were making a huge mistake for not staying and fighting for him.
A sudden shout outside startled her from her reverie. The coach jolted, slowing down. She leaned forward, frowning. What on earth?—
The coach came to a halt.
Before she could draw the curtain back to peer out, the door was flung open, and there he stood—Richard—his hair windswept, his cravat slightly askew, and his expression far too earnest to be anything but real.
He stepped up and slid into the seat across hers without invitation, his chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths.
Theodosia blinked, stunned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
Her brow arched. “Why? I do believe we said all that needed to be said at your townhouse.”
He winced. “I disagree. Since then, I’ve learned the truth about your sister, and I have come to offer my apology.”
Her arms crossed instinctively. “Let me guess. Olivia told you to come.”
His lips twisted. “No… Yes. She may have encouraged me. But that is not why I’m here.” He leaned forward, his gaze imploring. “I came because I behaved shamefully, and I need you to know that I regret every moment of it. I was wrong not to listen. Wrong to doubt you. And I am sorry.”
She studied him, suspicion and sadness warring within her. “You were more than just wrong. You were cruel. You never gave me the chance to explain. You chose anger over trust.”
He nodded solemnly. “I won’t argue. I was arrogant. Foolish. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am asking for it all the same.”
“And what of my sister?” she asked. “What is to become of her?”
“She was arrested,” he admitted. “But I will speak to the magistrate on her behalf. If she cooperates with the annulment proceedings, I will ask for leniency.”
“That is fair.”
He hesitated. “Does that mean you accept my apology?”
Theodosia was silent for a long moment. He looked sincere. Remorseful. And she was not a woman who carried grudges. At last, she replied, “It does, my lord.”
A flicker of hope lit his eyes. “The name is Richard, if you don’t mind.”
“I do not wish to be too familiar with you.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I wish you would.”
“I appreciate you coming all this way,” she said. “But a letter would have sufficed.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But a letter would not have allowed me to say what I truly need to say.”
