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“Oh, Rafe...”
“I regret that I threw it in his face, though. He wouldn’t be dead now if I’d only kept my mouth shut that night.”
“We can never know what might have happened. You didn’t do anything wrong. It really was just an accident. A terrible accident. You’ve been blaming yourself, and that needs to stop.”
He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her fingers. “You really are a very domineering woman.”
“Yes, I am. And I have deep flaws. But I’m working to improve myself. It’s true I’ve been much too obsessed with Hartmore.”
He looked at her unflinching, with such complete acceptance. “It’s all right. I understand. Hartmore is and always has been your greatest love.”
“Oh, Rafe. That’s not true. Not anymore. But I have to confess that I did marry you partly to get Hartmore.”
He smiled then. And it was a real smile, more than just the crescent-moon scar. “Only partly?”
“Well, there was the baby and the great sex. And you. I mean, we had been such dear friends. I hoped we might find our friendship again.”
“And we did, didn’t we?”
“Oh, yes. And now, I... Well, for weeks now I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you...”
He turned her hand over, brought her palm up and pressed his warm lips to it. She shivered in pleasure at that little kiss. And then he asked, “What?”
“You, um, mentioned that Edward said you were in love with me....”
He watched her face for the longest time. At last, he spoke. “I’ve always loved you, as a friend, as a true comrade, since that summer when you were five and I was thirteen and you talked to me as if I mattered, as though I was more than just my father’s oversize, wild-haired whipping boy.”
“Oh, my darling...”
“But then you came to us that summer you were seventeen and you had suddenly grown up. And it hit me like a bullet to the chest. I knew that summer that you were the only woman for me. And I also knew that all you’d ever wanted was to marry my brother.”
“Dear Lord...since I was seventeen? I can’t...”
“Love, you’re sputtering.”
“Of course I’m sputtering. You just told me that for eight years, you’ve been in love with me.”
“I did. I have.”
“But you never said a word to me. I can’t believe...” She thought again. And she found that she could believe. She drew a slow breath. “Sometimes it’s so hard to say the words that matter most.”
“It is, yes. You were seventeen and I realized I was in love with you—and you had been telling me for years that you were going to marry Edward.”
“God, what a twit I was.”
He chuckled. “You were very determined. And I had a lot of pride. I told myself that if you wanted Edward, well, you could have him. I tried to forget you. And then I watched all the goings-on with him and Fiona. I realized that it was going to be a disaster for you if you married him. When I saw him with Fiona at Tillworth that last night, I made up my mind, finally, to tell you about the two of them, no matter if you hated me for it. No matter if you never spoke to me again. And then Edward died.”
“And you blamed yourself.”
“I did, yes.”
“Truly, Rafe, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was, at least partly. So I tried to stay away from you.”
“But I wouldn’t allow that. I tracked you down at Villa Santorno.”
“And then—” he put his hand on the soft swell of her belly, so gently “—there was the baby. I convinced you to marry me—and got exactly what I’d always wanted all along.”
“I mean it, Rafe. It’s not your fault that Edward died. And it’s not wrong that we are happy together. It’s...what Eloise said to you that day she took you to the West Wing Gallery and showed you the portrait of Richard DeValery, that what we all need to do is to live a productive, rich life anyway, in spite of everything.”
He gazed at her so tenderly. “We both know that’s not exactly what she said.”
“Close enough—and where were we? Ah. You and me, married, and you still hadn’t told me how you really felt.”
“I couldn’t get the words out. I knew that when I finally did say it, when I told you how much I love you, I would have to tell you all of it, about Edward and Fiona and the night Edward died. I knew that the whole story was going to come out.”
“Just like it has, at last, tonight.”
“Exactly.”
“And you weren’t ready to do that yet.”
