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Marcella said nothing for a very long time, and Reginald didn’t dare break the silence. He waited for some indication that she wasn’t utterly terrified of him. Could he feasibly ask for her trust, having told her all that he had?
“I’m glad your father interfered,” the lady said at last. “The world would’ve been all the worse with your absence.”
Reginald let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thank you for your words. They’re kinder than I deserve.”
“Nonsense,” Marcella replied. “But I just…if it was so hard, why didn’t you come back?”
Reginald shook his head. “At first, I couldn’t. Then, it became a shameful thing. I guess, I thought that maybe it would be better for my father to accept that I was dead than to return as a criminal. And after a while, I started to detest thetonand everything I’d been born into. It seemed like a great injustice that I could correct only with my absence.”
“A choice that was only slightly better than death,” Marcella said.
He nodded. “Exactly. But I won’t say that it’s all been terrible. I did get a lovely wife out of the arrangement.”
Marcella’s cheeks pinkened. “Yes, I suppose you did get that, and I found a husband, who I’m immensely grateful for. I trust you. Bring all the friends you like to the manor, and I’ll treat them as if they were my own dearest friends.”
Reginald felt a warmth spread through his chest. “Thank you. And you’ll invite Lady Adeline to visit us. If I have my friends, it’s only right to see yours.”
“Of course.”
Marcella squeezed his hand, and he smiled. They continued through the garden, silent and happy. Despite the serenity of that most perfect moment, Reginald couldn’t quite convince himself that it would last. Experience had taught him that happiness never did, and the happier a man was, the more brutally his happiness would be torn apart.
