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Chapter Sixteen
William released the key to Bea with numb fingers, wondering at the last minute if he should have snatched it back. Her curiosity was evident, but her demeanor reflected suspicion and resistance, too.
Can you blame her?
Bea held the key for some time, staring at it like Miriam looked at worms. Did she know that the shaped piece of metal would not only open that lustrous walnut case, but his very heart and soul?
When she stood up with a decisive air, he prepared himself for her to bolt. Instead, without looking away from the stationery case, she sat down again—next to him. His heartbeat throbbed in his throat while she carefully slid the key in and unlocked it.
A profusion of parchment was stacked, letter upon letter, releasing like a spring when she opened the lid. “Oh, my,” she said slowly.
Sometimes the daily letters had been…twice daily. Letting out a shaky breath, he looked up at the drawing room’s paneled ceiling and hoped this wasn’t a grave error.
Can it be any worse than these last months?
“Will you—will you read them in order?” she asked.
Order? There was no bloody order to that jumble of passionate ruminations! The tips of his ears tingled as he thought about everything that would be revealed to Bea. “As you like.” He cleared his throat. “Some are written like proper letters.” He fished out such an example, pointing to a salutation and a date. “Others less so. Some have titles and are more…” Panic stole his voice, so he simply handed a document to her.
“Distractions at Parliament,” she read aloud, then picked up another. “Your Red Gown.” Then another. “Lady Beatrice, My Goddess.”
Her breathlessness was promising, but she returned the letters to the box. “I don’t know where to begin, William.”
She said my name.That was a start—a welcome one, bringing wind to his sails. “Then let’s go to the very beginning. Do you know why I choseyou?”
A flash of pain ran through her expression, making him wince.
“I know why,” she said, her voice laced with sadness.
“Do you?” He searched through the sheaf until he found the document entitledHow You First Captivated Me.Oh, the page itself weighed little, yet merely holding it invoked the power of the memories it held.
But Beatrice wouldn’t look at it; she stared at him, her eyes brave but full of hurt. “Your mother said you selected me at the marriage mart because I am so plain.” Her chin rose. “You knew you would never need to be jealous of any other man’s attentions.”
Shielding her from the fiery anger that burned toward his mother—and himself—he turned away, eaten alive. “No, Bea. None of that is true.” It was hardly her point, but within the stationery case was a letter with several paragraphs dedicated to his momentary homicidal reactions to a certain Duke’s interest in her during a musicale a few years earlier.
She swallowed. “It’s because I promised you a family.”
“It’s because I wantedyouto be my family.” He lifted the letter. Fighting not to crumple it before it could be read, he angled it for her to see the title.
“Captivated?” she asked, with breathless bewilderment.
William felt a fool a thousand times over and that was terrifying, but seeing Bea’s fears spurred him on.Shewas frightened. He took her hand. “I love you. Deeply. For too long, I subjected you and myself to an invisible master who kept us apart.” His mouth quirked into a smile, even though his heart was racing. “A Ga-Ba of the worst sort. But I slayed it. From now on, if we remain apart, it’s only because you or I choose to be. And I shall never choose that again.”
“What if I can’t believe that?”
“I know I caused you profound pain, though the very last thing I want is to hurt you. It’s a great deal to ask, but I’m going to. Let us read together what’s in that box, however many days or weeks it takes. If you didn’t know what was in my heart before, by the end you shall.”
She squeezed his hand. “Then what, William?”
He was grateful to be seated already, for her affectionate gesture filled him with so much hope it made him unsteady. Nonetheless, he tried to imbue his tone with confidence. “Then we spend the next ten years, or forty, or whatever time God gives us by each other’s side. In each other’s arms. Being parents to our children. Taking care of each other.”
“William!” She closed her eyes and tears shot down her cheeks. “That’s…that’s a beautiful dream. But what if it’s too late? If you change your mind? If after everything, the Venus, I just can’t?”
He set down the letter and held her hand with both of his. Her eyes remained stubbornly closed. “Perhaps you’ll decide I don’t deserve another chance. You might even conclude you don’t want the man those letters”—he glanced at the overflowing stack of parchment—“reveal. I vow to you I’ll respect and honor you no matter what you choose. I’ll never separate you from our children or harm you in any other way. Not on purpose. But until you make your decision, Bea”—he leaned closer, his gaze dropping to her lips —“I also vow to do my utmost to convince you to take the risk and pull me close.”
More tears fell down her cheeks, and he let go of her hand…so he could cup her face instead. Holding herself rigidly, he knew she was doing her best to regain her composure. Nay—to fight the torrent sweeping them both.
He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, then lowered his mouth and kissed her slowly along the wet trail that led from the apple of one cheek down her neck. When his lips caressed her jawline, her fists clutched the lapels of his dinner jacket. By the time he reached the soft skin near her collarbone, his prick was as hard as her breathing, but still he touched her gently and as if they had all the time in the world.
