Page 67 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
“I never met your late wife,” she began quietly, her gray eyes still watery but no longer actively leaking. “I didn’t know her. But as a fellow woman, I can understand why she felt like she had to provide an heir, especially if people were already saying she wasn’t a good match for you and your mother was pressuring her. I’m sorry she went through that, and I’m sorry you did too. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to see how unhappy she was when you weren’t able to fix the problem.”
“I tried,” he rasped. “I told her there was no rush. I have relatives the title could have passed to.” In fact, it could have gone to his own brother. “We fought over it. She was so desperate for a baby that she was willing to take risks that weren’t necessary. I just wanted her to be happy.”
“I’m sure she knew that,” she assured him.
“But it wasn’t enough.”
She raised their interlaced hands and brushed her lips over the back of his. Her mouth was soft and left tingles on his skin. “I think you probably did all that you could.”
Why would she believe that? She didn’t know him well enough to make such judgement calls.
“Because you’re a good man,” she said.
Huh. He must have spoken out loud.
He was tempted to argue. To point out all the ways in which hewasn’tgood. He’d failed Elizabeth time and time again. ButKate’s steady gray eyes shone with sincerity, and he didn’t have the heart to reject the comfort she was attempting to offer him.
“The whole affair was tragic,” she continued, looking down at their joined hands. “But you aren’t to blame.”
“I don’t accept that,” he gritted out, all mixed up inside. He wasn’t sure whether to be irritated with her for pushing the matter or frustrated with himself for not being able to just give her the response she wanted.
“You aren’t,” she insisted, her eyes narrowing. “It was an accident. It’s horrible, but accidents do happen.”
His chin trembled. “It was preventable.”
“I think you—” She cut herself off and drew in a long, slow breath, then opened her mouth as if to go on, but closed it again.
What did she want to say?
There was clearly more on her mind, but she didn’t seem inclined to voice her thoughts yet.
“I should have refused to drive her to the doctor.” His shoulders slumped, and he withdrew his hand from hers. “Or, if not that, then I should have ensured she never experienced such despair as she did those last months. It made her reckless. Perhaps I should have stayed away from her in the beginning, and she’d still be alive.”
Kate was silent for so long that he raised his head to find her watching him closely. “She might be,” she allowed. “But maybe it was her time to go. It’s impossible for us to know. You were in love, and the memory of that time deserves to be cherished, not regretted. You do her a disservice by wishing your marriage away.”
Her words hit him in the sternum, knocking the breath from his lungs.
She was right, he realized. By second-guessing his choices, he was disrespecting what they’d shared and the years when they’d been happy. He didn’t want to do that.
The door opened, and he jumped, his heart leaping in his chest.
“Apologies, my lord,” the maid murmured as she set down a tray laden with scones, butter, jam, and clotted cream.
“No apology necessary,” he mumbled, rubbing his chest to dispel the sudden tightness.
“How do you like your scones?” Kate asked.
“With jam and cream.”
She spread strawberry jam on both scones and added cream on top, then passed him one and took the other for herself. He held onto the scone but couldn’t bring himself to take a bite no matter how good it smelled.
“Is there anything else?” the maid asked.
“No, thank you,” Kate said.
The maid retreated, closing the door behind herself.
Kate devoured her scone as if she hadn’t eaten all day. She glanced at him, and he realized the cream had started to drip from the scone and run down his fingers. He licked them clean and bit into the scone. It was warm and, surprisingly, didn’t taste like ash in his mouth. His stomach grumbled, and he quickly ate the rest. The run-in with Mr. and Mrs. Norman must have made him hungry.
