Page 132 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“You’re angry.”
“Aye, my love,” he said. “Iamangry. Angry at the world. Angry that you believe that you always have to flee. When you were ruined…”
She flinched again as shame swelled within her, and he sighed.
“You carry the shame still, and I am sorry for it. You chose to flee then, and you fled a second time after you’d placed your trust in me and I betrayed that trust. And now you’re taking flight once more. But you should never run away from anything, my love. Do you not understand that yet? You must always runtowardsomething—not away.”
Etty shook her head. “I have nothing to run to, Andrew.”
“Oh, my love—you do!” he said. “As do I. I have always had something to run to, though, fool that I was, I did not fully understand it until now.”
“Understand what?”
He took her head in his hands then brushed his mouth against hers. The instinct to reach out was too strong, and she yielded, parting her lips as he slipped his tongue inside to caress her before withdrawing.
“There is only one thing in this world I wish to run to, my beloved Etty,” he whispered. “And that is you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Relief coursed throughAndrew as he held the woman he loved in his arms.
Only moments before, he’d been paralyzed with fear. His blood had frozen at the raw terror in her scream echoing through the forest.
The merest thought of her coming to harm would destroy him—and it would have been at his hand.
When he caught her before she fell, she was stiff with terror, eyes wide like a rabbit transfixed in a predator’s gaze. No wonder she hadn’t heard him calling! Fueled by guilt and shame, she had done what he now realized she had always done—fled. But this time her shame had been so great that she had fled without her son, believing that his life would be better without her.
It was unbearable to consider what the world would be like if she were no longer in it—the sweet woman with a passion for justice, unafraid to champion the beset upon.
“Never run from your fears, my love,” he said. “For you are strong enough to face them—stronger than most.”
“No,” she said, “I cannot—”
He silenced her protest with a kiss. “Yes, you can,” he said. “Have faith in yourself.”
She shook her head. “I have lost my faith.”
“I have not,” he replied. “My faith in you has only strengthened. And while I have done nothing to deserve yourtrust, I promise, here and now, that never more will you have to face your fears alone. For I will face them with you—to the best of my ability.”
A screech tore through the night, and the ghostly shape of an owl glided across the air. Etty stiffened and shivered, and Andrew took her hands.
“You’re freezing!” he said. “We must get you inside.”
“N-no,” she said, her voice rising. “I-I cannot. What must they think of me? Bella, her friends…”
“They think you’re a wronged woman who’s endured more than most.”
“I-I can’t—I can’t face them. Bella must think I’m a fool.”
“She doesn’t, my love,” he said. “Arabella knows and loves you as I do. And you’d be doing me a favor if you returned. Your friend has promised to cut off my manly parts with her letter opener and feed them to the pigs if I do not atone for my behavior.”
“Is that what you want?” she whispered. “Atonement?”
“That, and an assurance of the safety of my manly parts.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, and he planted a swift kiss on her lips.
“But I would gladly weather the loss of my manly parts if it atoned for my sins.”
