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“She was only doing what she had to do for her family. For her child.”
“I forgave her, but I never forgave him. He doesn’t deserve my compassion.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Her finger traced the line of his jaw. “I understand why you kept silent, Ford. You swore not to reveal the connection.”
“It was an oath I swore long ago but it’s been part of my life for so long I couldn’t... I couldn’t go against it.”
She reached for his hand and wove her fingers into his. She stroked her thumb over the center of his palm. “You don’t have to run away. Stay here with me. Tell me more stories.”
He relaxed against her, into the warmth of her body, the pulse of her wrist, the understanding in her eyes.
“When your mother...” His throat constricted, remembering the awful conversation. The hatred in her mother’s eyes.
The disheartenment and shame descended again, driving away the small shreds of blue sky beginning to appear through the clouds in his mind.
“What did she do, Ford? Tell me what she did.”
“After your brother claimed you for a dance,your mother brought me upstairs and she offered me twenty thousand pounds to leave London immediately and never contact you again.”
Her nails bit into his palm. “She didn’t.”
“She did. She told me that she knew my kind, that I was a common fortune hunter. She said a lot of other things, none of them good. I told her I’d never touch her money and I walked out. It was... it brought everything back to me. The day my mother brought me to see my grandfather. The hush money. Money meant to silence, to humiliate. To put me in my place.” His jaw locked so tightly he might never be able to open it again.
“I’m so sorry, Ford. I can’t believe she would do something like that. It’s unconscionable.”
He sighed. “She’s only trying to protect you, Beatrice. You have everything to lose. Your bookshop, your reputation, your fortune. Your mother. I refuse to be the author of all of that loss.”
“What if I want to write my own story? What if I’m willing to risk everything?” She rolled toward him, pressing her cheek against his cheek. “I couldn’t even allow myself to acknowledge that I wanted to kiss you. I had to imagine myself as a fictitious heroine before I could even give myself permission to express my desire. I’ve been living at a remove from life, at a distance, living within my head instead of my heart. You make me feel, Ford. Feel everything—joy, pain, love, sorrow.”
She kissed his cheek. “Pain and love go hand in hand. I struggled against loving you. I battled to keep myself removed from my emotions, but pain and risk are part of life. We can’t outrun suffering,or love. I love therefore I suffer. Because I could lose you. Because you could walk out this door and onto your ship and I would never see you again. Love brings struggle and strife, Ford, but it also brings joy and freedom and endless possibilities.”
She was wiping something off his cheeks with her thumbs. He must be crying. But he never allowed himself to weep, to be vulnerable.
There was a first time for everything.
“You’ve changed me, Ford. When I showed my true self to the world at the ball, that was... because of you, because of the way you challenged me to live my own life. To discover myself, expose myself, my true self, without fear of rejection when the inevitable laughter arrived. It took courage. And what I’m doing right now, uncovering myself for you...”
She sat up and slipped one sleeve of her blue gown off her shoulder. “Exposing myself for you...” The other sleeve fell. Her hands moved to the top of her bodice and she slid it down her body.
It was nearly unbearable, the tension of that last half inch, the fabric clinging to her nipples, ready to fall and show him everything he craved so badly. His cock hardened and his mouth went dry.
She looked down at her exposed breasts, and then she looked at him and smiled. She was a highly intelligent woman. She didn’t make this offering easily or glibly.
This was Beatrice at the height of her power and Ford was in awe of her—absolutely in awe of this woman.
“Beatrice,” he moaned. He drew her into his embrace, sliding the gown off her small, perfect breastsand lowering his mouth, taking her nipple between his lips, tonguing it with swirling strokes.
“This takes courage, Ford,” she said, curving her body to meet his tongue. “Are you brave enough to meet me halfway?”
She was everything he desired.
He could no longer picture leaving her, resuming the life he’d left behind when he agreed to renovate her bookshop.
That life didn’t exist anymore. It didn’t fit anymore.
When their bodies coupled, he knew that it would change him. This was a journey into the unknown.
She smelled like fresh night air and apple blossoms.
