Page 45 of Courting Elizabeth

My trust.

He stood before me without pride, without trying to make his action nobler than it had been. The man from Hunsford would have defended his judgment until he accused me of failing to understand the responsibilities of his rank. This one gave me a weapon that could wound him because he preferred to risk my esteem rather than win it through an illusion.

“Jane suffered,” I said.

“I know.”

“I resented you even before I knew the whole truth.”

“I know that too.”

“You are exasperating.”

“I have never been reproached for it so gently.”

I gave him a stern look.

“Do not try to make me laugh.”

“I would not dare.”

His mouth betrayed the effort he was making to remain serious.

I turned away, but a smile crept over me despite myself.

“I do not forgive you yet.”

“I accept that.”

“I will probably forgive you eventually.”

“I hope so.”

“And I cannot pretend that all my distrust has vanished simply because you chose honesty.”

This time, he barely paled.

“I accept that as well.”

I immediately regretted the needless cruelty of my words.

“Fitzwilliam…”

“No. You have the right to say it.”

He lowered his eyes to the papers on his desk.

I understood that my husband, so self-possessed before the world, had learned to accept wounds from me that he no longer returned.

I walked around the desk.

“Look at me.”

He obeyed.

I placed a hand on his cheek.

His face changed beneath my touch. All his restraint became visible precisely because it threatened to give way.