Page 42 of The Trouble with a Dare

She shook her head, interrupting him. “No. You do not understand.”

He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I am here, Grace. Make me understand.”

Her heart was beating too fast, a sick sensation rising in her stomach that cautioned her to hold her tongue, to keep the truth buried inside her for she would lose everything, but she could not keep hurting him as she had. He had become too dear to her, he was too good, and she would not taint his soul by tangling him up in her mess. If he saw the truth, he would see her for what she was and protect his heart accordingly. She ought never to have married him. She had been selfish to do so, but that was done.

Sterling waited, his thumb caressing the back of her hand in slow, even strokes like he calmed a fractious animal. He would wait all night and into the morning for her to speak. She knew that. It was in his nature to be patient, but it was not in hers and if she was to be despised, she may as well get it over with.

“The man w-who….”

She felt him stiffen, a barely discernible reaction, but she felt it and knew he would not like this one bit.

“He seduced me. He told me he loved me, and I believed him. I believed we would marry and be happy ever after. He lied, but… but I was not so very hard to seduce, Sterling, for he was beautiful, and I desired him. He made me mad with longing. So perhaps he was the instrument of my fall, but I fell eagerly, and with every expression of happiness. That was only four and a half months ago.”

There was a silence so profound it seemed to thicken about them, suffocating her.

“You….” His voice was rough, and he stopped, cleared his throat and began again. “You love him still, that’s why—”

“What?” she exclaimed in alarm. “No! No, that isn’t it at all. I told you I did not love him.”

He stared at her, his expression full of confusion. “Then what? Why tell me this—”

“Because what kind of woman goes from one man to another in such a brief space of time, Sterling? How can I have believed myself to be in love with that… that pretty piece of worthless nothing, to have found such physical pleasure with him and then… and then feel so much more for you? What is wrong with me? I want you so badly, but surely that is wicked, to feel such… such desire when….” She broke off, her face burning with shame. She wished she could avoid his gaze, for he was staring at her with—with….

What was that she saw in his eyes?

“Grace,” he said, and though he spoke her name calmly, she saw he was not calm at all. His chest rose and fell too fast, illustrating his agitation in a way he would not allow in his voice or manner. “I want to be clear that I have understood you correctly. The last time I kissed you, you pulled away from me because you were ashamed, because… you wanted me too much?”

Grace wanted to bury her head in her hands, anything to escape those dark eyes that seemed to see into her soul. No. Honesty, she had sworn to give him that, at least.

She gave a taut nod.

He let out a ragged breath and muttered a curse.

“I… I’m s-so s-sorry,” she wept. “You’ve m-married a h-harlot.”

Big hands grasped her shoulders, and he gave her a little shake. “Stop that. Stop that at once.”

She blinked, his face blurry through the haze of her tears, but she could see he was angry now, little she could blame him for it.

“I won’t have you say or think such things of yourself. Not ever again, Grace, do you hear me? God damn me for a fool. I ought to have considered… I should have spoken to you before now… tried to understand.”

Grace blinked rapidly to clear her sight, so she might see him properly, for surely, he could not be blaming himself for her own wickedness.

He raked a hand through his hair, making it thoroughly disordered in the process, and took a deep breath. Once he’d let it out again, he seemed a little calmer. She watched him warily, waiting for the moment he told her he wanted the marriage annulled, or that she must repent her sins, or whatever it was he wished her to do to atone for her lascivious nature. He did nothing of the sort, merely arranging her on his lap, pulling her to him so her back rested against his broad chest. His arms wrapped tightly about her, and she wanted to believe she could still have this, but likely he was just being kind, breaking the news gently, for he was a kind man and would not hurt her out of cruelty or spite.

“I want you to listen to what I have to say, Grace,” he said, his tone very serious. “And I want you to believe every word and never forget it. Do you hear me?”

She nodded, willing to do anything he asked if there was the slightest chance he might forgive her.

“There is not the least thing wrong with you.”

Grace sucked in a sharp breath and went to speak, but he cut her off.

“No. You’ve had your say. Now I’ll have mine. Hold your tongue.”

She subsided meekly, and he sighed.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Honestly, love, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than think of you in the arms of another man, but that was before we met. I may wish him to the devil and wish it had been me more than anything in the world, but it won’t change the past. You were perhaps reckless, blinded by your innocence and tempted by a man who knew far better, but that is the very worst crime that can be laid at your feet, and in my mind, that is no crime at all. You have a passionate nature and a loving heart, and a conniving bastard took advantage of both.”