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But Alec was already heading up the front steps, tall, broad shouldered, and as aloof as he’d been the very first day she’d arrived.
“Lord Sherbourne, if you could spare me a moment.” Her voice rang out firm, crisp. She wasn’t going to beg. She prayed she wouldn’t have to resort to that. “Ten, fifteen minutes, if you can manage that.”
He turned slowly on the top stair, a black eyebrow lifting. “We’re back to that?”
“Overnight you became a stranger.” She lifted her chin, holding her ground. “I hoped you could fill me in, just so I know what happened. Was there something I said? Something I did?”
His jaw jutted, blue gaze cool. “No.”
“You stopped smiling at me. You couldn’t even be in the same room with me. Why? Something changed. Something made you… pull away.”
“You want to have this discussion here?” he said.
She glanced around, the rolling lawn still white, the woods still caked with snow. The winter storm had passed but it had left a frozen world behind.
“It’s just us.” She drew a quick breath. “And as I know you’re going to need to leave to pick up Mrs. Booth, I don’t want to waste time. I just think, out of respect, you should explain what happened. What changed? It wasn’t me. I didn’t change. It was you.”
His dark head inclined. “I realized I’d made a mistake, that I’d been too affectionate and too flirtatious. I’d led you on.”
“There were no commitments made. I had no expectations—”
“But we were heading in that direction. We got caught up in a moment, caught up in a romance, but it wasn’t practical, and once I understood I wasn’t being fair to you, I had to take a step back.”
“One hundred steps back.”
His lips compressed. “It’s not personal, Cara. I hope you will believe that.”
She squared her shoulders. “Why didn’t you just say this to me yesterday? Why make me feel so terrible?”
“It wasn’t easy for me, either. I’ve enjoyed being with you. I’ve enjoyed every minute you were at Langley Park, but being together, continuing this, it’s unrealistic. As beautiful and kind as you are, we don’t suit, not in the real world.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, heart hurting. “You mean, in your world.”
He didn’t deny it. “I love London. That’s home. That’s where I live. I work from seven in the morning until ten at night. I often eat at the office, on the nights I even eat—”
“And I don’t fit that life,” she interrupted quietly. “Because I’m too small town. Too provincial.”
He didn’t contradict her, and his silence said volumes.
She swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, trying to think this through. The disappointment she felt was overwhelming. She was shocked. Blown away. She was only just realizing that she’d thought—hoped—she could make him feel something for her, make him wake up and care, the way he’d cared for her this past week.
It wasn’t going to happen. He’d made up his mind. He’d smashed whatever emotions he had, all the feelings and needs, the tenderness and desire, and put them away.
He came down the steps, two at a time, closing the distance between them. “Being from a small town isn’t a bad thing, Cara. But you and I, we have such different backgrounds. Wecome from different cultures. We have different responsibilities. My responsibility is to my clients and business, my family and Langley Park. I can’t afford to take chances, or make mistakes. In my life, there’s no room for error.”
Another sharp stab in her heart. “And I’d be a mistake?”
“There’s too much unknown for this… for us. You want to be happy—how many times did you tell me, I deserved to be happy? But that’s patently false. Not correct at all. My job is to provide and to do my duty. I can’t ever forget my duty. It’s too deeply engrained in me to forget who I am, and who I’m to be.”
“Why does that mean you can’t also be happy?” she whispered, mouth dry, chest aching.
“Because the conversation should never have been about being happy. The conversation should have been about responsibility. My father will not be here much longer. My aunts and great uncle are all in their senior years. Soon it will be just me, and as the last Sherbourne, I must do what I was raised to do. Honor my family. Continue the legacy.”
She wasn’t sure she followed and then it struck her. He was talking about his future title. When his father died Alec would be the earl. He’d own everything in sight. He’d probably inherit all of Frederick’s wealth, as well as his aunt Emma’s. But it wasn’t for him. It was to be passed on to the next generation, and the generation after that.
“I think I’m finally understanding,” she said slowly. “You need to marry, but it won’t be me. You need a wife, but I don’t fit the requirements.” She hesitated, brow creasing. “Is it because I’m American?”
He didn’t answer.
