Page 34 of Fair as a Star

He didn’t know if she was posing the whispered question to him or to herself. He answered it anyway. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have—”

“I could have stopped you.”

“You did stop me.”

“Yes. Too late.” Her eyes found his, her face stricken. “And now I’ve ruined everything.”

Had she ripped Mark’s heart from his chest and trod on it, she couldn’t have crushed his spirits more effectively. Here he was, senses still throbbing from their kiss, and all she could think about was her betrothal to Henry.

But of course she would. And how could he blame her? Henry wasn’t the third party in this relationship. It was Mark himself. He was the sinner, not the one who’d just been sinned against.

If kissing Beryl could ever be called a sin.

It had been the single most glorious experience of his life. The culmination of years of longing. That brief, clinging moment of shared heat and breath. Her soft lips shaping and yielding to his. They’d fit together so perfectly.

But she belonged to Henry.

A surge of bitter resentment took Mark unaware. He did his best to suppress it. “Nothing’s ruined. Henry need never know of it.”

“You would condone lying to him?”

“No, but—” He forced himself to say the words. “What we did… It didn’t mean anything.”

It was the furthest thing from the truth. Their kiss had meant everything to him. But he wouldn’t have her feeling guilty over it, believing that she’d betrayed Henry—that she’d committed some unpardonable sin.

Beryl made a soft sound. He couldn’t interpret it. She’d turned away from him, her face hidden from view.

“Your reputation is unharmed,” he added. “No one observed us. And it won’t happen again. We both know that. It was a stupid mistake. I see no reason for us to upset Henry for nothing.”

She walked a few steps away from him, arms folded at her waist. Ernest was curled up on the grass nearby. He raised his head to watch her.

In the distance, Mr. Venable’s frail voice rang out as his sermon reached a crescendo.

They had no real privacy here. Indeed, it was a miracle they’d been left alone thus far.

Mark raked his fingers through his hair. He vaguely registered that his hand was shaking. “I have to get back. My absence will be remarked.”

She nodded. “Yes. Of course.” Her voice was strange. “I’ll take Ernest to the carriage.”

He didn’t offer to accompany her. He didn’t have the strength to prolong their encounter.

Straightening his surplice, he reentered the church through the side door and quietly returned to his seat in the chancel.

The congregation was still sitting in their pews, just as they’d been when Mark had gone. Everything looked the same. He nevertheless felt as though he’d entered a different world. Not because of them, but because of him. Kissing Beryl had changed him irrevocably. Had made him viscerally aware of the impossibility of continuing on as he was.

Henry had been right, as always. Had recognized the difficulty of the situation before Mark fully appreciated it himself. He couldn’t stay in Shepton Worthy after Beryl was married. He couldn’t be around her anymore and not have her.

The carriage ride home was a subdued affair. Beryl sat silent beside an equally silent Winnifred. It was only Mama who spoke, her words of reprimand about Ernest punctuated by those from Aunt Hortensia.

“To have relieved himself inside of the church!” Mama closed her eyes in mortification “Had I known that was why you left so abruptly during the service, I’d have been too embarrassed to remain myself.”

“Pray that no one else observed the foul deed,” Aunt Hortensia said unhelpfully.

Mama paled at the prospect.

“No one saw,” Beryl said at last. No one save Mark. But she didn’t dare mention him. Her feelings about what had happened between the two of them were still too strange. Too raw. “I shall go straight back after changing my dress and replace the greenery myself.”

The prospect made her a trifle queasy. She’d no doubt encounter Mark again. It was too soon. She didn’t wish to see him until she’d had time to think.