Page 146 of A Modest Independence

“You esteem me,” he scoffed.

“Yes,” she retorted sharply. Her hand found its way to her necklace. The memory of how it had felt to stand there, weeping and pleading, as her father plundered her trinket case sent a jolt of nausea through her. “And you’re wrong about it being fear that drives me. It’s self-preservation. I won’t give up my rights over myself to anyone, particularly not to a man who could take away my money and property at the snap of his fingers. Who could rob me of my ability to go where I like when I like. Who could have me confined against my will to a country house in the back of beyond, or worse, committed to an asylum as Helena’s uncle tried to do to her.”

“Do you believe even for a moment that I’d do any of those things to you?”

“No,” she said. “But you could. You could. And the law would be entirely on your side.” And then what would she do? In past times of trouble, Tom had come to her rescue. But what if Tom became her adversary? What if his feelings faded and all that was left was the ruthless man that Giles had described to her? A man determined to win at all costs? She’d be powerless against him, in law as well as in fact.

“I wouldn’t touch your money Jenny. And I’d sure as hell never threaten to have you committed. For God’s sake. Not all men are conscienceless monsters.”

“And I’m supposed to take it all on faith, am I? To cede control of everything to you.” She folded her arms to stop their shaking. “What would you be giving up for me? From where I stand, it seems you’re unwilling to change your life at all for my sake.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Because you’re a man.”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Because I’m not going to alter myself any more than I already have. I’ve had enough in my life of trying to conform to someone else’s ideal. Of believing that if only I were richer, smarter, or more handsome, then perhaps I’d be worthy of affection, or God forbid, love. I won’t do it anymore. Not with you. If you can’t accept me as I am—”

She reached him in two strides and took his hard jaw in her hands. It seemed a vast presumption in the midst of such an argument. Even more so after having gone an entire month without touching him in any way more familiar than the occasional hand on his sleeve.

Tom broke off midsentence on a harsh intake of breath. His eyes were riveted to hers as she stared up at him.

Her voice softened with tenderness. She couldn’t bear him to think he wasn’t good enough. “You’re talking nonsense,” she said. “I’m not Mrs. Culpepper or any of those other shortsighted fools from your past. You don’t have to change anything about yourself to earn my regard.”

His fingers closed gently around her wrists. A glimmer of hope shone in his face. “Jenny…”

“But I can’t be the only one to compromise. I can’t turn myself into something I’m not just to please you. It’s no fairer of you to ask it of me than it would be for me to ask it of you. Surely you must see that?”

The hope flickered and died, leaving his countenance cold. He very deliberately removed her hands from his face. “What I see is that this was a mistake.”

Jenny’s heart stopped in her breast. “This,” she repeated. “Do you mean coming here tonight? Or do you mean us?”

“Both, probably. All of it. All the time we spent together.” He moved away from her. The distance was no more than a step, but it felt as wide as a mile. “A proper courtship starts with an understanding. An acknowledgment of shared goals. But you and I…we’ve done this all backward.”

“It was never a courtship.”

“No, it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have suggested that we explore this attraction to each other. It was wrong of me. Deeply wrong.”

“How can you say so? Unless you’re speaking of morality. Some idea you have that the intimacies we’ve shared must be confined to a marriage. In which case—”

“I’m not talking about morality. I’m saying that I was fool to believe I could ever be satisfied with half of you. This thing between us, it’s all or nothing, Jenny. It’s always been all or nothing. I realized it from the moment we kissed that night on the deck of the Indus. It scared the devil out of me. I should have known then that I was in over my head. Feelings like these…one can’t dip in and out of them as one pleases. They mean too much. To me, anyway.”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging worse than ever. “To me as well.”

“Then you understand.”

“Yes, but…I didn’t expect…”

“Nor did I.” He gave an eloquent grimace. “If you only knew the tortuous turn my thoughts have taken of late. It’s lucky you exacted that promise from me on the train to Marseilles. If you hadn’t…”

“What?”

“I’ve thought of hundreds of ways of manipulating you into coming home. Of trapping you and forcing your hand. Why else do you think I encouraged you to go to Jhansi? I never really expected we’d find Giles alive. The odds seemed too slight. All I wanted was more time with you. I thought—”

“You thought that I’d change my mind.”

“Yes.” He gave her a bleak look. “That you’d decide I was worth it.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “It has nothing to do with your worth. It never has. It has to do with mine. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering who I might have been if only I’d had a little time on my own. A chance to exert myself in a manner of my own choosing without reference to the expectations of a father or a brother or an employer. Without that, how could I ever commit myself to anyone? It wouldn’t be fair to you or to myself.”