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‘Yes,’ he said. He should have known. Should have trusted her. She thought she was a scandal, but really...she was just his Faith. And, for the first time, it didn’t matter what anyone else believed about her. ‘And thank you. For telling me the truth.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s a new thing I’m trying. And tell your sister to stop checking up on me, yeah?’ Faith added with a grin as she walked away. ‘I’m fine.’
Sylvia. She’d help him fix this. Of course she’d also tease and probably hit him, but he could take it.
‘Trust me,’ he said, smiling at Faith as he climbed back into his car. ‘I’m going to go have a long talk with my sister. Right now.’
* * *
Faith turned, halfway across the field, and watched his car as it pulled away, trying to ignore the emptiness that threatened to fill her. She’d see him again, she knew. If she was staying at Fowlmere, in society, it was inevitable. But they’d never be just Dominic and Faith again. She’d never get to take him to see the pelicans or eat at Lola’s. She’d never feel his lips against hers, or his body over her.
She’d never get to tell him that she loved him. And she’d given up any chance of ever hearing him say it back.
Loss coursed over her in waves, as if she’d lost her whole life, her whole future, instead of just one man.
It was for the best, she reminded herself, wiping away the tears that dampened her cheeks. She didn’t even know if he wanted more—certainly not after everything that had happened. How could she possibly work alongside him, day after day, without giving into the desperate desire for him? And how could she let him help her when she knew he’d be putting his professional and personal reputation on the line to do so?
There was a chance that her plan to save Fowlmere would fail. She wasn’t stupid; she knew that. And she couldn’t let everything that Dominic had worked for at Beresford be dragged down with it.
Besides, like she’d told him, she was done being ashamed. Done with seeking a place in a world that didn’t fit her. She was making her own place, and Dominic Beresford could never understand something like that.
No, this was the perfect ending. A little bittersweet, sure. But they both knew it was the right thing, they had closure, they’d said goodbye.
Now she could move on with her life.
Without the man she loved.
With a shuddering breath, Faith called out to Jack. ‘Okay. What’s next?’
* * *
‘You want to do what?’ Sylvia screeched to a halt in the middle of the pavement when Dominic announced his intention. He smiled apologetically at the irritated pedestrians who crashed into them.
‘Marry Faith,’ he said again, his voice calm. It was strange how, once you figured out what needed to be done, the doubt and the worry faded away. All that mattered now was the plan. The right steps he needed to take to make her say yes. ‘I’m pretty sure it was your suggestion, actually.’
‘I said you were in love with her! I figured you’d date her first. Like a sane person.’
Dominic shook his head. ‘It has to be all or nothing.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she won’t say yes to anything else. Actually, she probably won’t say yes to this. Which is why I have to get it exactly right.’
Sylvia stared at him, sighed, then started walking again. ‘You know, when you said we should go shopping, I was hoping for something more in a shoe line.’
‘You don’t want to help me choose a ring?’
That changed her mood. ‘Yes. Absolutely I do. You’re bound to get it wrong without me.’
‘So you are in favour of my plan.’
Sylvia lifted a hand and wobbled it from side to side. ‘Maybe.’
‘How can I convince you?’
Halting in front of the first jewellers shop on the row, Sylvia paused with her finger on the doorbell. ‘Tell me why you’re doing this.’
Dominic considered. It was one thing to know it was the right move in his head, another to articulate exactly why. Finally, when it became clear they weren’t going anywhere until he answered, he said, ‘I love her. I’m pretty sure she loves me. I know, in my heart, we belong together.’
‘So ask her out. Go for dinner. Take it slow.’
Dominic shook his head. ‘Won’t cut it. Slow means...it means her worrying I’m going to end things if she does something I find embarrassing. It means leaving an escape route, a way out if she leaves me. A way to pretend it didn’t matter. And it means leaving open the chance that we can walk away if things get hard. It means stories and rumours and whispers designed to try and split us up. And it doesn’t show her how I feel. That it doesn’t matter who she is, what she does, any of it. As long as she’s with me. I’ll take any risk—even the risk of her leaving—if she’ll give me a chance.’
