Page 53 of The Gentleman's Confession
“And do you see the fear and panic in my eyes too? I am the one who is nearlyengaged. You are to marry Lisette!” She would cry if she did not leave now.
Reluctance flashed through his eyes before he released his hold on her, leaving her skin cold. “Don’t we have a say in our own happiness?”
His question lingered between them. “Our greatest chance for happiness is if I listen to the matchmakers and you marry Lisette as planned.”
“That plan was madeforus.”
“You’re confused. This is what you want.” She put her hands to her cheeks, willing them to soak up the heat radiating there from all the emotion whirling inside. She dropped them uselessly to her side. “Listen to me, Miles. I am no expert on love, that much is obvious, but I do know a little about life. Happiness is fleeting and temporary and often comes with a price. Grandmother was lucky to have had more. I was a fool to think I could have the same. But you ... you and Lisette have a chance for the real thing.”
His voice was calm, opposite of her own. “I already told you I cannot marry her. I think you know why.”
“No, no, no. Our feelings are jumbled from spending too much time together. Chaperones are the protectors of hearts. I was wrong to discredit them.”
Miles stared at her. The disappointment in his eyes sent pain through her chest and twisted her stomach into a knot. She hugged her middle to combat the fierce ache, hating that there was no better solution.
“Jemma,” he whispered. “I’m in love with you.”
She shook her head. “I have to leave.”
He stared hard. “Is this checkmate, then?” He took a step back. “It’s your move.”
He was letting her win again. He’d always let her win. And this time, he was doing it by leaving the decision completely up to her own heart. But nothing would change today. It couldn’t. She moved around him but only made it a few steps before turningback. “Please, Miles, don’t let this ruin our friendship.” Then she turned away again, tears choking her. She could not let him see how hard it was for her to leave him.
CHAPTER 24
Miles threw himself on hislumpy sofa and covered his face with his arm. He stayed in a similar position for hours, regretting his choices one minute and regretting nothing the next. Though she had rejected him, at least she could not doubt his feelings. His secret was out.
For years, he had battled to hide his affection and for good reason. He firmly believed there was a time to swallow a desire if it would not grow into the path one wanted. Why follow a road leading to a dead end? He had imagined confessing a thousand times, but it had always pointed to the same miserable destination—heartache.
Everything had changed, however, that day in the church with Jemma’s sudden decision to marry. And now look at him. He was in the very place he had feared being in. At least Lisette had been spared thus far. Well, wallowing around for all eternity was not going to be his fate. He needed to do something useful before he went mad.
His mind latched onto an idea, and he sat up in a rush. The room spun, and he clutched his head until the dizziness passed. Jemmahadwanted him to talk less and act more. She might actually be proud of him for what he was about to do, if she ever forgave him. Moving to his secretaire desk, he sat and pulled out his writing box.
He would not renew his feelings to Jemma but put his efforts toward something she would approve of. He intended to write a letter to every person he knew for this secret project. He’d learned long ago that Rebel work had the capability ofdistracting him better than anything else. He dipped his pen in ink and breathed, “For Jemma.”
One sheet of paper after another, he scrawled his request. Long into the night, he wrote until his fingers ached. Thoughts of Jemma compelled him to keep going. Twice, he rose to stretch his stiff muscles before sitting and writing again, refusing to think again on his bleak future. In the early hours of the morning, he picked up the remaining nub of his candle and took himself to bed.
There was nothing more exhausting than a broken heart. That was the last thought he had before sleep overtook him.
y
Jemma pushed aside the sketch of the gown she had been working on. She had sent out a few to magazines but had yet to hear back. She ought to send more to London to the dressmaker she knew there, but concentrating was madness.
Miles had wanted to kiss her.
Helovedher.
Heat flooded through every limb, infusing her with incomprehensible happiness and utter terror at the same time. Despite the cold fireplace, the room was suddenly overbearingly hot. She propelled herself out of her chair toward her bedroom window. Fumbling with the latch, she pushed it open, throwing her head through the opening. “It’s not real!” she squealed.
“What?” came a distant voice.
Her eyes darted about only to see the gardener working a shovel into the ground directly below her. His gray clothing blended directly into the stone wall. And he had heard her girlish scream of delight mixed heavily with denial.
“What’s not real?” he asked again.
She looked around for something—anything to comment on. “The flowers ... are not real. They are too beautiful. Well done, Mr. Hansen.”
He gave her a strange look and nodded. “Thank you, miss.”
