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When she shook her head and pulled away, exasperated and driven by need, Dom cried, ‘I love you, Theo! Can’t you see that? I know you care for me. Why won’t you let yourself love me back?’
‘Because I...I can’t! Not now! Not yet!’
‘I seem to remember a girl in a lane telling me “You could if you wanted to”.’ Angry, frustrated—why did she have to be so stubborn?—Dom continued. ‘You told me to look past my limitations, to all that I could still be. I can’t believe you don’t have the courage to try, after all you’ve suffered and survived!’
‘That’s right,’ she snapped back, ‘I have suffered and survived. By protecting myself—and carrying only the burdens I could handle!’
Stung, he said, ‘Well, thank you very much. I shall try very hard not to be one more “burden” you are forced to handle.’
Furious, Dom stalked off and threw himself on to his horse. He knew he’d said too much, but her ridiculous resistance made him so angry! And he loved her so much, he’d better take himself away before he said anything more.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hands on her hips, furious too, Theo watched Dom ride off.
They’d only just settled the matter with Charles. Why did he have to push her to examine her feelings, looking for a declaration she was not yet ready to give?
Then, with a shock, she realised—he’d said he loved her.
Loved her.
And what did she do after that heartfelt declaration, but push him away!
Idiot.
He’d offered her his heart—shouldn’t she have the courage to accept it? She knew she trusted him not to hurt her, and as he’d said, nothing in life was sure. So why was she still so afraid?
Losing Marshall, finding herself alone, pregnant, unwed, had been a horror that had haunted her for years. But she’d faced other difficult situations since then—the loss of her father, the loss of her familiar place in the army, coming to an unknown land where she knew almost no one—without falling to pieces. Wasn’t it time for her to move beyond the trauma of that past?
Let it go, and embrace Dom fully?
Still, when she thought of saying words of love out loud—irrevocable words that couldn’t be taken back—a sudden panic made it hard to breathe.
She couldn’t do it, not yet. He had to give her a little more time.
She sighed. In any event, she needed to apologise. He’d professed his love, and she, basically, had rebuffed him. It took only a moment’s reflection to realise how she would feel, had she confessed her love for him, and he’d pushed her away, claiming he wasn’t prepared to take the risk of loving her.
She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.
Sick and shaky, she collected her grazing horse and looked around for somewhere to mount.
Once again, she found nothing at all she might use as a mounting block.
It looked like she’d face another long trudge home.
* * *
Nearly two hours later, she arrived back at Bildenstone, hot, disgruntled, and more than a little annoyed with herself. She’d call for a bath and refresh herself before she went looking for Dom. Maybe put on something cut low in the bosom, to distract him, while she apologised and before she showed her contrition in a way he would most appreciate.
Maybe if she kept him too exhausted and satiated from lovemaking to think, he’d be content enough not to press her about the other.
Feeling better, she gave her horse to a groom outside the stables and proceeded on to the Hall.
‘Wilton, where is your master?’ she asked as he opened the door for her.
‘I expect he’s halfway to Hadwell by now, mistress.’
Theo stopped short. ‘Hadwell?’ she echoed.
‘Yes, he told me he hoped to be well on the way to Bury St Edmunds by nightfall, and from thence to Newmarket soon after.’
‘He...he already left for Newmarket?’
‘Yes, ma’am. He did tell me to beg your pardon on his behalf for leaving so suddenly. A messenger came from his stable manager at Newmarket this afternoon, saying all the stock had arrived and requesting his presence there as soon as he could manage it.’
‘I see,’ she replied, her recently revived spirits taking a sharp downward spiral.
‘Shall I send Nancy up to you?’
‘Yes, please,’ she murmured distractedly.
Up in her room, she stood, looking out the window. Towards Newmarket.
She knew he was angry when he’d left her by the stream. But she still couldn’t believe he’d left without waiting to speak with her, or attempting to repair their quarrel.
She must have wounded him even more than she’d thought.
She never thought she could wound him that badly. He must care very deeply.
She’d wanted to bathe, apologise, and make it all up to him.
It appeared all she’d be getting was a bath.
* * *
Five days later, Theo still had no word from Dom. She busied herself completing the transfer of her belongings from Thornfield, and checking in at the school, but always with a sense of looking over her shoulder, listening for hoofbeats.
She’d thought she was self-sufficient, but suddenly there seemed to be a tremendous gap yawning around her where, a very little time ago, there’d been none. She’d expected to miss Dom, especially after parting on such an ill note, but she found herself missing him much more than she’d dreamed possible.
When had he become so important to her well-being?
Wilton wanted to know when she wished to schedule the party for the tenants—and she wanted to consult him. She needed to set up a training program with the blacksmith for Jemmie—and she wished to ask his advice. Miss Andrews had a question about some stories she might read to the children—and she automatically thought about asking him for recommendations.
Dinners, sitting at the small formal table alone, were wretched, and even evenings spent exploring the magnificent library didn’t cheer her.
Nights, of course, were the worst. A few weeks of anticipating the unparallelled bliss she’d found in his embrace quickly made her entirely resentful of having to sleep alone. Nor had she ever slept as well as she did after his sweet and thorough loving.
After not resting well at night and missing him continually by day, she soon became short-tempered even with Charles.
To travel as far as Newmarket, he’d be gone at least a week, she thought disconsolately.
All she knew for sure, was when he got home, she meant to give him a welcome, and an apology, he would never forget.
* * *
Later that same day, Dom rode towards Bildenstone. He should have remained at Newmarket another day or two; there were still horses from Upton Park not yet disposed of, but once he set up the purchase of several Norfolk trotters and Suffolk sorrels, so anxious was he to return to Bildenstone, he turned the rest of the hunters over to his stable manager and set out.
He’d hated to leave Bildenstone without speaking with Theo—who delayed so long coming home after their quarrel by the brook, Dom knew she must have been even angrier than he’d thought.
His fault, all of it. He’d pushed her too hard, too soon. So what if it took another month, or two, or a year, until she trusted him and trusted their life together enough to admit she loved him? He knew she did, on a deep level that connected them in spirit as passionately as the union they made between their bodies.
He shouldn’t yearn so much to hear her say the words, when her tender touch showed how much she cherished him every time they came together. And in the meantime, he should be thankful for the blessing of having claimed her as his wife, when, but for divine intervention in the form of Jemmie, he might have lost her to someone else before he could begin to woo her.
He hoped, despite his abrupt departure, that she’d not still be angry when he returned.
He was bringing her a gift, which might help him redeem himself. He smiled. At the least, it would give her a new project to work on.
Never again, he promised himself, would he be impatient with her.
* * *
It was mid-afternoon by the time he turned down the lane to Bildenstone. Finally reaching the manor, he left the horse to find its own way to the stables, too impatient to wait any longer.
‘Wilton, where is your mistress?’ he asked as the butler admitted him.
‘Welcome home, sir! The mistress rode over to the school today.’
‘Is Master Charles with her?’
‘He and his nurse were going to Thornfield to gather up the rest of the young master’s things. Shall I bring you some refreshment?’
‘Later,’ he said. He’d go clean up a bit, then ride out to meet Theo. ‘Would you tell Cook I’d like something special for dinner tonight?’
‘‘I’ll let her know, sir,’ Wilton said, bowing.
Though nearly writhing with impatience to see Theo again, he thought it best not to meet her all covered in mud. Trotting up the stairs, he called for a footman to bring him hot water.
